THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 


THE  COLLECTION  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINLANA 

PRESENTED  BY 

^'^.   L.  Long 


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THE   ITORN-RNAKE. 


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FISHER'S  RIVER 


(NORTH  CAROLINA) 


SCENES  AND  CHARACTERS. 


BY    "SKITT," 


WHO    WAS    RAISED   THAR." 


ILLUSTRATED   BY   JOHN  M'LENAN, 


NEW    YORK: 
HARPER    &    BROTHERS,    PUBLISHERS, 

FKANKIIN     SQUAB  B. 

185  9. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  one  thousand 
eight  hundred  and  fifty-nine,  by 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  Southern  District 
of  New  York. 


PREFACE, 


When  I  commenced  the  following  sketch- 
es I  did  not  expect  to  publish  them.  I  vis- 
ited my  old  native  section  in  1857,  after  an 
absence  of  twenty  years,  and  while  there  the 
reminiscences  of  my  early  years  naturally  re- 
vived, from  the  influence  of  that  strange  but 
necessary  law  in  man's  mental  structure,  as- 
sociation of  ideas,  and  on  my  return  I  con- 
cluded to  write  out  some  of  the  scenes  and 
stories  of  that  age  and  section.  When  I  had 
nearly  finished  them,  they  were  read  to  some 
friends,  who  warmly  suggested  their  publi- 
H  cation.  I  have  consented,  and  the  reader 
N<  now  has  them,  and  will,  of  course,  as  one 
v^  of  the  sovereigns  of  the  mental  world,  de- 
cide upon  their  merits.     Long  prefaces  are 


yi  PREFACE. 

not  generally  read,  and  I  shall  say  but  little 
in  that  line.  I  hope  these  "Scenes  and 
Stories"  will  contribute  a  mite  toward  our 
country's  stock  of  humorous  literature.  I 
choose  to  conceal  my  real  name,  and  will  be 
known  by  the  nickname  of  my  boyhood, 

"Skitt." 

July,  1859. 


CONTENTS, 


Ctapter  Page 

I.  DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  COUNTKY 13 

II.  "FAMUS  OR  NO  FAMUS" 20 

III.  JOHNSON  SNOW 23 

THE  NIGHT   MEETING. — HE  JOINS   TUB  CHUKCII. — HE  APOSTATIZES. 
— THE  INTEEVIEW   AND   TEIUMPH. 

IV.  UNCLE  DAVY  LANE 50 

THE   CHASE. — THE    H0EN-8NAKB. — THE    EATTLBBNAKE    BITE. —THE 

FAST-RUNNING  BUCK RIDE   IN   THE  PEACH-TREE. — THE  PANTHER. 

— THE    TURKEY   HUNT. — THE    PIGEON-ROOST. — BIG    PEACH-EATING. 
—  SOME  APPLE-EATING.  —  THE   TAPE-WORM.  —  THE  BUCK-HORNED 

SNAKE. 

V.  UNCLE  FROST  SNOW 94 

VI.  DICK  SNOW 98 

CHAKAOTERISTIC   ANECDOTES. — COURTSHIP. — GETTING   RELIGION. 

VIL  OLIVER  STANLEY 124 

ESCAPE  PROM   THE   WHALE. — INDIAN    AND   BEAK   STORY. 

VIIL  LARKIN  SNOW,  THE  MILLER 139 

8T0RY  OF  THE   EELS FAST-EUNNING  DOG. 

IX.  UNCLE  BILLY  LEWIS 152 

THE  FIRE-HUNT. — UNCLE  BILLY   PEEACEEB. 

X.  JOHN  SENTER 1C5 

THE  TRIAL. — THE   WEDDING. 

XI.  REV.  CHARLES  GENTRY 180 

THE  ORIGIN  OF   THE   WHITES. — JONAH   AND   THE   WHALE. 

XIL  FIGHTING 193 

JOBH  JONES  AND  HASH-HEAD  SMITH. — BUTTING. — A  QUARTER  OF  A 
DOLLAR  FIGHT ^PIGHT  ABOUT   A   KIP-SKIN. 

XIII.  THE  CONVERT 206 

XIV.  NOT  A  TRAVELER 212 


viii  CONTENTS. 

Chapter  Page 

XV.  COOKING BIG  EATING,  Etc   21T 

XVI.  A  DECLARATION  OF  LOVE 222 

XVIL   GLASSEL  AND  THE  OWL 22T 

XVIIL  ONE  OF  THE  PEOPLE 229 

XIX.  A  CALL  TO  THE  MINISTRY 233 

XX.   OUTDONE 237 

XXI.  STRAW  I   STRAW  !   MORE  STRAW  HERE ! 241 

XXII.  TARE  AND  TRET AN  ALABAMA  TALE 244 

XXIIL  HAM  RACHEL,  OF  ALABAMA 249 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


THE  HOEN-SNAKE Frontispiece. 

THE  NIGHT  MEETING 38 

BENDING  BUCKSMASHER 66 

THE  PIGEON-ROOST 82 

"  GOOD-MORNIN',  LADIES" 107 

ESCAPE  FROM  THE  WHALE 131 

THE  EELS 146 

THE  FIRE-HUNT 157 

THE  WEDDING 181 

BUTTING 200 

THE  WINDSOR  CHAIR 215 

TARE  AND  TRET 247 

HAM  RACHEL,  OF  ALABAMA 266 

A2 


FISHER'S  RIVER 
SCENES  AND  CHARACTERS. 


FISHER'S  RIVER. 


I.— DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  COUNTRY. 

The  scenes  and  stories  found  in  this  work 
were  enacted  and  told  between  the  years 
1820  and  1829.  Some  description  of  the 
wonderful  country  where  such  striking  scenes 
were  acted  and  such  marvelous  stories  were 
told,  and  of  the  men  who  figured  prominent- 
ly in  them,  is  imperatively  demanded.  I 
fi"ankly  confess,  however,  that  I  am  utterly 
incapable  of  doing  the  subjects  ample  jus- 
tice. But  an  effort  must  be  made ;  apolo- 
gies will  not  do  ;  so  I  address  myself  to  the 
important  and  mighty  task,  and  hope  that 
the  united  world  will  return  me  a  vote  of 
thanks  for  rescuing  from  Oblivion's  fell 
grasp  such  important  items  in  the  history 
of  our  country. 

Surry  County  is  one  of  the  northwestern 
counties  of  North  Carolina,  and  joins  Gray- 


14  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

son,  Carroll,  and  Patrick  counties,  Virginia. 
These  scenes  are  laid  in  tlie  extreme  north- 
western part  of  this  county.  It  is  a  roman- 
tic section,  and  produces  a  people  equally 
romantic.  The  highest  part  of  the  majestic 
Blue  Ridge,  a  branch  of  the  great  Alleghany, 
stands  in  bold  view,  overlooking  the  whole 
country.  From  its  base  flow  many  crystal 
streams  as  cold  as  ice-water  can  be  made  in 
southern  cities.  Some  of  them  are  dignified 
with  the  name  of  "river."  Tlius  there  are 
"Mitcheirs  River,"  "Big  Fisher's  River," 
and  "Little  Fisher's  River;"  and  of  creeks 
there  are  "Stewart's  Creek,"  "Ring's  Creek," 
"Beaver  Dam  Creek,"  and  so  forth.  All 
these  streams,  with  branches  and  springs  con- 
stantly pouring  into  them,  after  running  a 
short  and  swift  course,  precipitate  themselves 
into  the  pure,  clear,  and  rapid  Yadkin.  Near 
the  foot  of  the  Blue  Ridge,  on  its  spurs  and 
ridges,  and  on  those  rivers  and  creeks,  lived 
the  heroes  whose  wondrous  feats  and  stories 
are  recorded  in  the  following  pages. 

But  "Shipp's  Muster-Ground,"  on  Ring's 
Creek,  lying  between  Big  Fisher's  and  Lit- 


DESCRIPTION    OF    THE    COUNTRY.  I5 

tie  Fisher's  Rivers,  being  the  common  centre 
of  rendezvous  for  the  whole  country,  I  choose 
to  call  my  work  "Fisher's  River  Scenes 
AND  Characters."  These  two  rivers  took 
their  names  from  the  loftiest  peak  of  the  Blue 
Ridge  chain  of  the  Alleghany,  called  "Fish- 
er's Peak."  It  is  a  peak  of  overwhelming 
beauty  and  grandeur.  It  was  named  after 
Colonel  Daniel  Fisher,  who  ran  the  line  be- 
tween Virginia  and  North  Carolina  to  the 
top  of  this  peak.  The  line  crosses  this  lofty 
point  near  its  centre.  The  tradition  of  the 
country  says — and  I  suppose  it  is  correct — 
that,  Mr.  Fisher  being  a  fleshy  man,  the  as- 
cent of  the  mountain  overcame  him  ;  he  fell 
sick,  died,  and  was  buried  on  its  height. 

From  the  top  of  Fisher's  Peak  one  has  an 
unsurpassed  view,  east,  west,  north,  and, 
south,  of  mountain  piled  upon  mountain,  lift- 
ing their  heads  high  in  the  immense  blue 
horizon  far  as  the  eye  can  take  in  an  object, 
strengthened  and  assisted  by  the  clear  and 
pure  atmosphere  of  that  elevated  region.  If 
heathen  mythology  were  true,  this  might 
have   been    the    place    where    giants    piled 


IQ  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

mountain  upon  mountain  to  scale  the  walls 
of  heaven.  Then  "knobs"  of  lesser  size 
more  modestly  lift  up  their  heads  to  aid  and 
swell  the  grand  variety,  while  hills  and  ridges 
assist  the  spectator  to  gradually  descend  to 
small  valleys,  river  and  creek  bottoms,  where 
now  and  then  may  be  seen  small  farms,  cab- 
ins, and  houses.  But  the  view  is  indescrib- 
ably grand,  and  I  shall  attempt  no  farther 
description  of  it.  One  must  see  it  to  realize 
its  grandeur. 

Near  the  base  of  the  mountain,  and  a  few 
miles  east,  south,  and  southwest  of  it,  lived  a 
healthy,  hardy,  honest,  uneducated  set  of  pi- 
oneers, unlike,  in  many  respects,  any  set  of 
pioneers  that  ever  peopled  any  other  portion 
of  the  Lord's  globe.  They  came  mostly  from 
Virginia,  and  a  portion  of  them  from  the 
middle  and  lower  parts  of  North  Carolina, 
and  a  few  from  other  sections — a  sufficient 
number  from  all  parts  to  make  a  singular 
and  pleasing  variety.  The  emigrants  from 
Virginia  furnished  exceptions  to  the  general 
claims  of  Virginians,  most  of  whom  claim  to 
belong  to  the  "first  families;"   but  it  was 


DESCRIPTION    OF    THE    COUNTRY.  17 

honor  enough  for  them  that  they  came  from 
"Fudginny."  This  section  was  settled  be- 
tween the  years  1770  and  1780.  They  had 
stirring  times  during  the  Kevolution.  The 
early  settlers  were  pretty  equally  divided  be- 
tween Whigs  and  Tories.  A  majority  were 
probably  Tories,  but  the  Whigs,  headed  by  a 
few  daring  spirits,  held  the  Tories  in  check, 
and  drove  them  to  the  mountain  fastnesses. 
Many  thrilling  incidents  could  be  narrated, 
but  that  is  not  my  business  in  these  sketches. 
Well  do  I  remember  hearing  the  old  soldiers 
of  the  Revolution  tantalize  the  Tories  and 
their  descendants. 

A  large  portion  of  these  early  settlers 
were  wholly  uneducated,  and  the  rest  of  them 
had  but  a  rude  and  imperfect  rudimental  ed- 
ucation. Each  settler  brought  with  him  the 
rustic  vernacular  of  his  native  section,  and 
held  on  to  it  with  great  tenacity,  thus  mak- 
ing a  common  stock  of  the  richest  unwritten 
rustic  literature  that  ever  graced  any  com- 
munity. They  had  no  use  for  grammar  nor 
for  grammarians ;  they  had  no  dictionaries  ; 
what  few  literary   questions    arose    among 


18  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

them  were  decided  by  Mesliack  Franklin,  for 
lie  was  the  only  well-educated  man  in  the 
community,  and  had  been  to  Congress.  Jes- 
se Franklin,  for  several  years  United  States 
Senator,  and  afterward  Governor  of  North 
Carolina,  lived  and  died  here.  For  his  op- 
portunities, he  was  the  greatest  man  North 
Carolina  has  ever  produced.  But  with  most 
of  the  people  a  rifle,  shot-pouch,  butcher-knife, 
and  an  article  they  dubbed  "  knock-'em-stiff " 
were  of  vastly  more  importance  than  "lari> 
jn' ;"  while  the  younger  ones  preferred  the 
sound  of  the  "fiddle,"  a  "  seven-handed  reel," 
and  "  Old  Sister  Phebe"  to  a  log-pole  school- 
house.  Yet,  for  all  this,  they  were  a  clever 
folk,  and  one  raised  among  them,  who  knows 
their  worth  every  way,  has  ventured  to  re- 
cord some  few  of  their  deeds  of  daring. 

It  is  emphatically  a  "poor  man's  coun- 
try." There  is  but  little  good  land  in  it. 
All  the  valuable  land  lies  on  the  small  riv- 
ers and  creeks,  in  very  narrow  bottoms.  No 
rich  man  will  ever  be  tempted  to  live  there. 
But,  notwithstanding  their  long,  cold  winters 
and  poor  lands,  the  inhabitants,  by  hard  labor 


DESCRIPTION    OF    THE    COUNTRY.  19 

and  by  the  most  rigid  economy,  live  well. 
All  extravagance,  however,  is  necessarily  ex- 
cluded, and  the  people  make  the  greater  part 
of  their  own  apparel,  material  and  all. 
Money  is  very  scarce,  and  corrupting  fash- 
ions seldom  reach  them.  That  is  one  place 
where  Paris,  London,  and  Broadway  seldom 
reach.  I  visited  them  in  1857,  and  found 
"sacks"  and  "joseys"  in  full  fashion. 

But  the  reader  is  tired,  I  fear,  of  this  pre- 
lude, if  he  has  read  it  at  all.  A  long  intro- 
duction to  a  book  is  treated  as  unceremoni- 
ously as  a  long  grace  at  table  when  men  are 
hungry.  It  is  like  a  green  field  to  a  starv- 
ing horse  when  the  fence  is  sorry.  But 
what  has  been  said  is  essential  to  what  fol- 
lows, and  if  I  have  erred  it  has  been  in  be- 
ing too  brief. 


20  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 


n.— "FAMIJS  OR  NO  FAMUS." 

Fisher's  River  was  one  of  tlie  last  places 
for  the  importance  of  militia  musters,  in  the 
expressive  language  of  that  section,  "to  give 
up  the  ghost."  I  account  for  it  from  the 
fact  that  a  few  old  Revolutionary  soldiers 
lived  in  the  community,  and  kept  the  "mil- 
iteer  sperit"  always  at  blood  heat  in  the  ris- 
ing generation. 

Their  musters  were  semi-annual,  held  in 
May  and  November,  and  the  old  "Revolu- 
tionaries" were  ever  present.  The  "cap- 
ting,"  "leftenant,"  "sargint" — all  the  "os- 
siffers" — were  proud  to  perform  "revolu- 
tions" before  them.  "  They  knowed  a  thing 
or  two  about  militeer  tacktucks,  just  as  well 
as  old  Steuben  ur  Duane  tharselves."  And 
the  "cap'en"  never  thought  for  once  of  giv- 
ing the  word  "Right  face!  dismissed!"  till 
they  were  gravely  reviewed  by  the  "old  so- 
gers." 


"FAMUS    OR    NO    FAMUS."  •  21 

There  was  another  matter  of  powerful  at- 
traction to  the  old  "  Xutionaries"  and  the 
'"Litia" — the  "knock-'em-stiff" — ^that  was 
as  punctual  in  attendance  as  any  of  the 
"patriots."  "Nigger  Josh  Easley"  with 
his  "gingy  cakes,"  and  Hamp  Hudson  with 
his  "licker,"  were  men  and  things  as  much 
looked  for  as  "Capting  Moore  with  his  mil- 
iteer  uniform." 

Hamp  Hudson  was  the  only  man  in  that 
whole  country  who  kept  a  "still-house"  run- 
ning all  the  year ;  the  weaker  ones  would 
"run  dry."  Of  course,  Hamp  and  his  still- 
house,  and  all  the  "appurtenances  thereof," 
were  well  known  to  the  whole  country. 

Hamp  also  had  a  noted  dog,  named  "Fa- 
mus,"  as  famous  for  being  in  the  distillery 
as  Hamp  himself,  and  quite  as  well  known 
in  that  entire  region  as  his  master. 

Now  it  came  to  pass  in  the  course  of  hu- 
man and  dog  events  that  Famus  fell  into  a 
"mash- tub"  and  was  drowned.  It  was 
"narrated"  all  through  the  country  "that 
Famus  was  drownded  in  a  mash-tub,  and 
Hamp  had  distilled  the  beer  in  which  Fa- 
mus was  drownded,  and  was  gwine  to  carry 


22         •  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

it  to  the  May  muster  to  sell/'  This  report 
produced  a  powerful  sensation  in  the  com- 
munity, and  was  the  only  topic  of  conversa- 
tion. All  appeared  to  believe  it,  and  there 
was  a  general  determination  "not  to  drink 
one  drap  uv  Hamp's  nasty  old  Famus 
licker." 

The  auspicious  muster -day  arrives,  and 
the  people  collect  from  Stewart's  Creek, 
Ring's  Creek,  Beaver  Dam,  Big  Fisher  s  and 
Little  Fisher's  Rivers,  from  the  "Hollow," 
"the  Foot  uv  the  Mounting" — from  the  Dan 
to  the  Beersheba  of  that  whole  country.  I, 
too,  was  there — though  but  a  lad,  deeply  in- : 
terested  in  the  action  of  that  important  day 
— to  see  who  would  triumph,  Hamp  and 
Famus,  or  an  indignant  community. 

As  soon  as  they  collect  they  meet  in  little 
squads  to  debate  the  grave  question.  The 
old  "  Bevolutioners"  are  there,  and  their 
sage  counsels  decide  all  questions.  "They 
font  for  our  liberties,  and  they  must  be 
hearn."  "Uncle  Jimmy  Smith,"  a  leading 
man  among  them,  particularly  on  "licker 
questions,"  makes  a  speech  to  the  crowd  just 


"FAMUS    OR    NO    FAMUS."  23 

before  Cap'en  Moore  tells  the  "orderly  sar- 
gint"  to  "form  ranks."  Uncle  Jimmy  lisps, 
but  he  is  clearly  understood  by  his  waiting 
and  attentive  audience.  They  are  "spell- 
bound" by  his  nervous  and  patriotic  elo- 
quence. What  if  he  has  a  slight  impediment 
in  his  speech?  his  eloquence  is  in  his  sub- 
ject.    Hear  him: 

"Now,  boyith,  I'm  an  old  man — wath  at 
the  storming  uv  Stony  Pint,  under  old  '  Mad 
Anthony  Wayne,'  ath  we  boyith  allers  called 
him  ;  and  IVe  marched  and  countermarched 
through  thick  and  thin  ;  hath  fout,  bled,  and 
died  nairly  for  seven  long  years ;  I  hath 
theen  many  outrages,  but  thith  Famus  busi- 
ness caps  the  stack  and  saves  the  grain. 
Jist  think  uv  thith  feller,  Hamp  Hudson,  to 
'still  the  beer  uv  that  mash-tub  that  Famus 
— that  nathty,  stinkin',  mangy  dog — was 
drownded  in ;  and  fur  to  think  fur  to  bring 
it  here  fur  to  thell  the  nathty,  stinkin'  whis- 
ky to  hith  neighbors,  Cap'en  Moore  and  com- 
pany, and  to  the  old  sogers,  what  fout  for 
yer  libertith.  I  tell  you,  boyith,  you  can  do 
ath  you  pleath,  but  old  Jimmy  Smith — old 
Stony  Pint — ain't  a-gwine  to  tech  it ! " 


24  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

' '  Nur  I ! "  "  Nur  I,  Uncle  Jimmy ! "  shout- 
ed hundreds. 

The  voice  of  the  sergeant  is  now  heard  like 
a  Blue  Ridge  cataract : 

"0-yis!  o-yis!  The  hour  of  muster  have 
arrove !  O-yis !  All  uv  ye  what  blongs  to 
Cap'en  Moore's  company,  parade  here !  Fall 
inter  ranks  right  smart,  and  straight  as  a 
gun-bar'l,  and  dress  to  the  right  and  left,  ac- 
cordin'  to  the  militeer  tacktucks  laid  down 
by  Duane  in  his  cilebrated  work  on  that  fust 
of  all  subjecks." 

They  fall  into  ranks  with  precision,  order, 
dignity,  and  gravity,  prompted  by  their  pa- 
triotism. Besides,  the  old  "'Lutionary  so- 
gers" are  looking  at  them. 

Cap'en  Moore  now  appears  in  his  old- 
fashioned  uniform,  worn  probably  by  some 
"'Lutionary  cap'en"  in  many  a  bloody  fight. 
'Tis  an  odd-looking  affair;  the  collar  of  it 
repulses  his  "ossifer  hat"  from  the  top  of 
his  "hade;"  the  tail,  long  and  forked,  strik- 
ing his  hams  at  every  step,  and  two  great 
rusty  epaulets  on  his  shoulders — enough  to 
weigh  down  a  man  of  less  patriotic  spirit, 
and  on  a  less  patriotic  occasion. 


"FAMUS    OR    NO    FAMUS."  25 

Thus  equipped,  "as  the  law  directs,"  he 
commences  the  "drill  accordin'  to  Duane." 

I  had  seen  every  muster  on  that  patriotic 
spot  from  the  time  I  was  able  to  get  there 
and  to  eat  a  "gingy  cake,"  but  never  had  I 
seen  as  poor  a  one  as  that  was.  There  was 
no  spirit  nor  life  in  the  "militeer."  Instead 
of  following  Duane,  they  were  whispering 
and  talking  about  Hamp  and  Famus.  In- 
deed, they  greatly  needed  the  inspiration  of 
Hamp's  barrel.  Cap'en  Moore  bawled  till  he 
was  hoarse;  his  "leftenant"  and  "sargint" 
were  exhausted,  but  it  all  did  no  good.  They 
performed  no  "revolutions"  according  to 
Duane,  Steuben,  nor  any  other  author  ex- 
tant. The  old  "  Revolutioners"  could  ren- 
der them  no  assistance,  and  in  despair  the 
"cap ting"  dismissed  them,  in  deep  mortifi- 
cation. 

But  where  are  Hamp  and  Famus  all  this 
time  ?  Yonder  he  sits,  under  the  shade  of  a 
large  apple-tree,  solitary  and  alone,  astride 
of  his  whisky-barrel. 

It  is  now  one  o'clock  P.M.,  and  his  chances 

look  bad ;   his  whisky-barrel  has  not  been 

tapped,  nor  has  any  man  dared  to  approach 
B 


26  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

his  condemned  head-quarters.  "Old  Nigger 
Josh  Easley"  has  sold  all  his  "gingy  cakes," 
and  is  showing  his  big  white  teeth,  rejoicing 
at  his  unparalleled  success.  Josh  is  the  only 
joyful  man  on  the  "grit."  The  rest  are  all 
melancholy,  standing  or  sitting  in  little 
squads,  debating  the  mash-tub  question. 
Hamp  is  quite  composed,  and  his  looks  say, 
"Never  mind,  gentlemen.  111  sell  you  every 
drap  uv  my  licker  yit." 

Two  o''clock  arrives,  and  no  one  approach- 
es Hamp's  apple-tree.  His  prospects  are 
growing  worse.  But  look  yonder!  The 
crowd  has  collected  around  Uncle  Jimmy 
Smith.      Let  us  approach  and  hear  him : 

"Well,  boyith,  I  don't  know  tho  well 
about  thith  matter.  Maybe  weVe  accused 
thith  feller,  Hamp,  wrongfully.  He  hath 
allers  been  a  clever  feller,  and  ith  a  pity  ef 
he  ith  innercent  uv  thith  charge.  The  fact 
ith,  boyith,  it's  mighty  dull,  dry  times; 
nuthin's  a-gwine  on  right.  Boyith,  you  are 
free  men.  I  font  for  your  freedom.  I  thay, 
boyith,  you  can  do  ath  yon  pleath,  but  ath 
fur  me,  old  Stony  Pint  Jimmy  Smith,  Fa- 
mus  07'  no  Fainus,  T  must  take  a  little.'"' 


"FAMUS    OR    NO    FAMUS."  £7 

The  speech  of  Uncle  Jimmy  was  satisfac- 
tory and  moving.  His  audience  was  not 
"spell-bound,"  for  they  moved  up  to  Hamp's 
head-quarters  with  a  "double-quick  step;" 
the  "barl"  was  tapped,  "Famus  or  no  Fa- 
mus,"  by  the  generous  Hamp,  who  never  re- 
proached them  for  their  severe  accusations. 
Soon  the  condemned  barrel  was  emptied,  the 
money  was  in  Hamp's  pocket,  and  he  was 
merry  as  "  Gingy-cake  Josh." 

Uncle  Jimmy  soon  began  to  sing  his  Rev- 
olutionary ditties,  spin  his  yarns,  and  was 
happy  enough.  Cap'en  Moore,  "leftenant" 
and  "sargint,"  soon  forgot  their  hard  day's 
work.  The  "'Litia"  and  others  fell  to  dis- 
cussing questions  of  great  moment;  but  the 
whole  affair  ended  in  skinned  noses,  gouged 
eyes,  and  bruised  heads.  That  was  a  Famus 
day  in  the  annals  of  "Shipp's  Muster- 
Ground." 


28  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 


III.— JOHNSON  SNOW. 

Of  all  the  men  in  that  romantic  and  pic- 
tm^esque  country,  I  must  yield  the  palm,  in 
many  respects,  to  Johnson  Snow. 

He  was  one  of  the  oldest  settlers  of  Stew- 
art's Creek,  near  its  head,  and  Avithin  a  few 
miles  of  the  "Flour  Gap"  of  the  Blue  Ridge. 
"Johnson,"  for  so  he  was  always  familiarly 
called,  had  not  the  advantages  of  even  a 
Dilworth's  Spelling -Book  education.  He 
had  learned  the  common  vernacular  of  the 
country,  with  a  few  additional  eccentricities 
of  his  own,  but  he  "axed  nobody  no  boot, 
and  could  weed  his  own  row,  and  keep  it 
clean  too — that's  sartin." 

Look  at  him,  and  you  will  believe  every 
word  of  it,  and  more  too. 

He  is  about  five  feet  six  inches  high,  well 
set,  muscularly  and  powerfully  made ;  but 
he  is  good-humored,  wears  a  generous  face, 
and  has  a  warm  heart.     Well  for  the  "Stew- 


JOHNSON    SNOW.  29 

art's  Creek  Suckers'"  tlat  he  was  a  good-na- 
tured man.  He  is  also  fond  of  good  eating, 
and  shows  his  keeping. 

There  was  a  long  line  of  kings  in  Egypt 
that  went  by  the  common  name  of  "Ptole- 
my," and  to  distinguish  one  Ptolemy  from 
another  the  people  and  historians  appended 
an  adjunct  expressive  of  the  character  or 
habits  of  each  monarch.  One  of  them  was 
called  "Ptolemy  Physcon,"  or  "Tunbelly." 
And  to  distinguish  Johnson  Snow  from  the 
numerous  Snows  that  lived  in  that  region, 
and  to  give  the  reader  some  idea  of  the  effects 
of  a  good  appetite,  he  might  with  great  pro- 
priety be  called  Tunbelly  Johnson  Snow. 

Two  things  he  was  particularly  fond  of,  and 
upon  which  he  flourished  whenever  he  could 
get  them — turnip  greens  and  "hog's  gul- 
licks,"  the  "  Adam's  apple"  of  a  hog's  haslet, 
or  the  "google,"  as  it  is  commonly  called. 
Johnson  had  departed  from  all  technicali- 
ties, and  called  it  "gullick." 

Hog-killing  time  was  a  glorious  time  with 
Johnson — equal  to  herring  time  with  sea- 
board North  Carolinians.  At  meals  he 
would  say  to  his  wife  Patsey,  after  "sweep- 


so  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

in'  the  platter"  of  the  gullicks  and  turnip 
greens  already  on  his  rude,  crossed-legged 
table, 

"Hello,  Patsey !  God  love  your  soul !  is 
there  any  more  gullicks  and  greens  in  the 
pot  ?  If  there  is,  God  love  your  soul,  Pat- 
sey!  git 'um  fur  me." 

I  will  add  that  he  would  help  all  his 
neighbors  kill  hogs  for  the  "gullicks." 

There  was  an  arch,  provoking  smile  ever 
playing  upon  his  full  face,  which  would  at- 
tract attention  in  any  crowd,  and  mark  him 
out  as  a  "rare  bird"  in  any  community.  He 
had,  moreover,  a  fund  of  sharp,  provoking 
wit,  running  into  satire  when  necessary,  which 
Johnson  maintained  "were  worth  more  than 
all  yer  college  lingO,  a  plaguy  sight."  His 
waggish  wit  was  a  terror  to  the  whole  coun- 
try. Woe  to  the  man  who  happened  to  fall 
into  some  ludicrous  mishap !  He  never 
heard  the  last  of  it  from  Johnson.  He  had 
"a  rig"  on  nearly  every  man.  Invulnerable 
himself,  in  one  scrape  only  was  he  "cotched" 
— at  Bellow's  meeting — as  you  shall  soon 
learn. 
S  Johnson  Snow  was  a  necessary  append- 


JOHNSON    SNOW.  gj 

age  at  every  public  gathering.  "  Licker" 
was  at  them  all,  and  he  loved  it  as  a  thirsty 
OX  does  pond-water.  The  fact  is,  it  sharp- 
ened his  wit,  and  he  would  indulge  freely  for 
that  additional  reason. 

He  had  a  peculiar  way  of  prefacing  his 
weightiest  sentences  Avith  a  short  word,  ut- 
tered twice  in  a  guttural  manner,  clearing  up 
his  throat,  or  his  "gullick,"  as  he  would 
term  ,it,  just  before  uttering  them.  Henry 
VIII.  and  Johnson  Snow  used  the  same 
short,  expressive,  and  significant  word, 
though  their  pronunciation,  action,  and  man- 
ner were  quite  diiFerent.  When  King  Hen- 
ry used  his  ha !  men  might  walk  a  chalk- 
line  ;  when  Johnson  uttered  his",  some  one 
might  look  out. 

For  instance,  when  he  was  where  "candi- 
dites"  for  the  "  Legi slater"  were  treating  for 
votes,  he  would  say, 

"Ha!  ha!  boys,  let's  take  some  uv  the 
knock-'em-stiff,  fur  I  can't  half  talk  to  these 
gentlemen  candidites  till  I'm  'bout  half 
slewed." 

Soon  Johnson  would  have  first  one  then 
another  of  the   "candidites"   aside,   "borin' 


32  FISHER'S    RIVER   SKETCHES. 

them  fur  the  holler  horn"  to  their  hearts' 
content. 

He  now  lets  fly  his  provoking  gibes  in  ev- 
ery direction,  striking  one,  then  another,  pro- 
ducing all  the  time  peals  of  laughter  from 
all  except  himself.  In  this  he  resembled 
Dean  Swift.  The  man  that  laughs  hearti- 
est Johnson  turns  upon  him  and  he  is  "sei- 
sorified.'"  A  physician  dares  to  laugh,  and 
he  ' '  cotches  it"  thus : 

"Ha!  ha!  hello.  Doctor  Oglesby,  how 
do  you  come  on  killin'  folks  ?  You  d  better 
be  laughin'  t'other  side  o'  yer  mouth,  and 
down  on  yer  knees  a-prayin\  Ef  I'd  a  kilt 
as  many  folks  as  you,  wid  yer  callomy  and 
jollermy,  I'd  now,  instid  o'  laughin',  be  on 
the  yeth,  in  sackcloth  and  ashes.  Ha !  ha ! 
look  a  here,  Doctor  Oglesby,  where  do  you 
bury  yer  dade?  It's  a  bully  grave-yard  by 
this  time,  I  s'pose.  When  you  a-gwine  to 
add  any  more  yeth  to  it?" 

But  the  above  is  as  much  space  as  I  can 
give  my  tunbellied,  merry,  and  illustrious 
Stewart's  Creek  hero  by  way  of  introduction, 
and  will  now  bring  him  on  the  stage  in  a 
few  acts  and  scenes. 


JOHNSON    SNOW  g'^ 

The  first  act  and  the  first  scene  was  at 

THE   NIGHT   MEETING. 

Johnson  Snow  had  the  bump  of  curiosity 
fully  developed. 

' '  I  want  to  know  suthin  uv  every  thing 
that's  a-gwine  on.  I'll  be  smashed  inter  pie- 
crust— yes,  inter  a  million  o'  giblets,  afore 
ril  be  as  ignunt  as  some  jewkers !  Ha !  ha ! 
I've  hearn  uv  this  feller  Beller's  shoutin' 
night  meetin's,  and  I'm  a-gwine  to  one  on 
um. 

With  such  aspiring  feelings  as  the  above, 
our  Stewart's  Creek  hero  "moseyed"  off, 
"three  sheets  in  the  breeze,"  to  one  of  Par- 
son Bellow's  night  meetings. 

In  rawrhide  "  stitched-down  shoes,"  he 
stood  six  feet  four  inches.  He  was  raw- 
boned,  long-faced,  pug-nosed,  and.  wide- 
mouthed.  In  size,  small  men  were  no  more 
to  him  than  Liliputians  were  to  Captain 
Gulliver.  A  mountain  "boomer,"  dressed 
in  a  linsey  hunting-shirt  down  to  his  knees, 
with  a  leather  band  round  his  waist,  a  tow 
and  cotton    shirt,   dressed  buckskin   pants, 

with  a  few  other  things  of  minor  importance, 

B  2 


34  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES, 

made  up  the  uniform,  the  surplice  and  gown, 
of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Bellow. 

We  will  now  "mosey  off"  with  Johnson 
to  the  "night  meetin','^  and  see  what  hap- 
pens, for  there  is  always  music  where  our 
jolly  hero  goes. 

Our  "leather-britches  parson"  had  a  re- 
vival going  on,  and  there  was  quite  "a  stir" 
among  the  people,  for  he  made  his  mark  as 
well  as  Johnson.  Johnson  staggers  in,  and 
with  a  good  deal  of  difficulty  takes  his  seat. 

Bellow  commences  "the  sarvices,"  and, 
notwithstanding  his  powerful  voice,  quite  in 
harmony  with  his  name — despite  of  an  occa- 
sional stamp  with  his  big  snake-killing  foot, 
enough  to  break  through  any  other  than  a 
puncheon  floor ;  with  now  and  then  a  heavy 
blow  upon  the  Bible  with  his  herculean  fist, 
and  often  a  keen,  deafening  pop  with  his 
hands  together,  by  way  of  variety — Johnson 
goes  fast  to  sleep,  and  snores  grandiloquent- 

ly- 

Johnson  seems  to  be  opposing  the  par- 
son's eloquence- — Bellow  with  his  mouth, 
hands,  and  feet,  Johnson  only  with  his  nose. 
The  combat  is  not  equal,  but   Johnson  is 


JOHNSON    SNOW.  35 

"one  on  'um."  Usually  snorers  have  but 
little  variety  in  their  music,  and  it  is  grating 
and  shocking  to  the  nerves  ;  but  not  so  with 
our  hero,  for  he  has  a  great  and  pleasing  va- 
riety. He  is  as  freakish,  amusing,  and  as 
interesting  in  snoring  as  in  any  other  rela- 
tion of  life.  There  is  nothing  dull  and  mo- 
notonous about  the  man.  It  puts  one  in  a 
good  humor  to  look  at  him. 

The  rivalry  lasted  for  some  time,  and  vic- 
tory appeared  to  be  doubtful ;  but  at  last 
the  parson  triumphed.  At  the  close  of  his 
discourse — and  a  masterly  effort  it  was — 
there  was  a  general  shout  all  through  the 
congregation.  Men  and  women  mingled  to- 
gether, shouting  and  clapping  their  hands. 
Johnson's  nose  eloquence  was  "nowhar." 

At  last  some  of  them — it  happened  to  be 
women  mostly  —  "crowded"  Johnson,  and 
woke  him  up,  and  the  first  idea  that  entered 
his  "noggin""  was  that  he  was  in  a  general 
"still-house"  fight.  He  was  so  "slewed" 
when  he  went  in  that  he  had  forgotten  all 
his  antecedents,  and  woke  up,  as  he  thought, 
in  a  "ginVal  row."  He  was  no  coward,  and 
he  determined  to  "wade  through  'um." 


36  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

He  rolled  up  his  sleeves,  clenched  his  fists, 
"gritted"  his  teeth,  and  commenced: 

"Ha!  ha!  what  the  devil  you  about 
here?  What  you  smackin'  yer  fists  in  my 
face  fur  ?  Ha  !  ha  !  ef  you  ar'  'umun,  you'd 
better  skin  yer  eyes  and  look  sharp.  I  don't 
'low  man  nur  'umun  to  ^^op  thar  fists  in  my 
face.  No,  by  juckers !  Hello !  git  out'n 
the  track  here !  Rip  shins  and  marrer 
bones.!  Wake  snakes,  the  winter's  broke ! 
Ha !  ha !  here's  at  you !  I  can  lick  the 
whole  possercommertatus  of  yer  afore  you 
can  say  Toney  Lumpkins  three  times,  by 
Zucks !      Come  on,  yer  cowards!" 

By  this  time  the  people  were  quieted  in 
the  shouting  line,  and  began  to  leave  the 
house — some  to  laugh,  but  most  of  them 
through  fear — and  every  body  was  silent  in 
the  house  but  Johnson.  The  cowardly  re- 
treat made  him  more  furious  than  ever.  He 
shouted  after  them, 

"Ha!  ha!  come  back  here  ef  you  dare,  and 
face  a  brave  man !  Look  him  plump  in  the 
face  and  eyes  a  minnit,  you  cowardly  vil- 
luns !  You're  a  purty  set  uv  ill-begotten, 
turkey-trottin'  pukes,  to  raise  a  quarrel  with 


'niE    NU.llT    MI.KTIM; 


JOHNSON    SNOW.  39 

a  peaceubble  man,  and  then  run  like  a  gang 
uv  geese.  Gone!  gone,  are  you?  Ha!  ha! 
IVe  Glared  the  tan-yard !  I've  clared  the  tan- 
yard  !     Hoo-pee ! " 

Just  here  Johnson  discovered  that  the 
parson  was  the  only  man  that  maintained 
his  position.  He  marched  up  to  him,  with- 
out the  least  respect  for  his  reverence,  and 
said,  "Ha!  ha!  Beller,  you're  the  ringlead- 
er uv  all  this  devilment.  You're  the  big- 
gest rascal  in  this  crowd.  I  can  lick  you, 
sir,  any  day,  any  minnit." 

Rubbing  first  one  fist,  then  th?  other,  in 
the  parson's  face,  he  continued : 

' '  Smell  uv  yer  master !  Smell  uv  yer  mis- 
tiss  !  Smell  uv  yer  master !  Smell  uv  yer 
mistiss !  Ha  !  ha !  no  fight  in  you  ?  You're 
a  purty  feller,  to  raise  a  row  with  a  peace- 
ubble man,  and  then  won't  fight  it  out! 
Mosey !  Trollop !  Git  out'n  here,  you 
dinged  old  sloomy  Yahoo !" 

The  parson,  to  get  rid  of  his  furious  an- 
tagonist, left  the  house,  and  Johnson  was 
left  alone  in  his  glory,  having  "clared  the 
tan-yard." 


40  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 


HE   JOINS    THE    CHURCH. 

Not  long  after  the  foregoing  act  and  scene, 
Johnson  had  a  spell  of  sickness  that  reduced 
his  abdominal  dimensions  considerably,  and, 
in  his  own  expressive  language,  ' '  I  got  so  I 
couldn't  eat  nuther  turnup  greens  nur  hog's 
gullicks,  and  like  to  a  pegged  out,  and  left  Pat- 
sey  a  poor  reflicted  widder  upon  this  sinful, 
villanus  world — these  mundanious  shores  uv 
mortality." 

He  reflected  not  a  little  on  his  past  life, 
more  especially  about  that  "  night-meetin"' 
scrape.""  So,  in  a  mellow  state  of  feeling, 
and  with  quite  a  penitent  heart,  he  joined 
Parson  Bellow's  church.  There  was  great 
rejoicing  by  the  class  at  this  "triumph  of 
grace"  —  at  this  "wonderful  convarsion." 
The  great  Goliath,  who  had  defied  Israel — 
that  Manasseh — that  Saul  of  Tarsus — was 
now  a  humble  penitent  and  a  devout  "seek- 
er." 

Johnson,  being  an  ardent  and  enthusiastic 
man  any  way,  made  pretty  rapid  progress  in 
his  religious  duties  and  life,  and  so  encour- 


JOHNSON    SNOW.  ^i 

aged  the  class  that  they  had  serious  thoughts 
of  procuring  a  license  for  him  to  preach ; 
"fur,"  said  Parson  Bellow,  "he  sartinly  has 
a  good  gift  in  prayer,  and  thar  mout  be  a 
work  fur  him  to  do.  He  mout  be  the  in- 
strument to  slay  these  Stewart's  Creek  sin- 
ners." 

One  day,  in  class-meeting,  Johnson  "got 
happy,"  and  groaned,  cried,  shouted,  and 
"tuck  on  no  little."  Johnson  Avould  make 
a  "racket"  any  where;  it  was  his  "natur, 
and  he  didn't  b'lieve  in  squashin'  natur." 
Bellow  was  gratified,  went  to  him,  and  in- 
quired, 

"How  do  you  feel.  Brother  Snow?" 
"Ha!  ha!  good — mighty  good.  Brother 
Beller,  and  no  mistake !  It  beats  creation 
all  holler !  Nothin'  like  it — not  even  hog's 
gullicks.  Knock-'em-stiff 's  nowhar  compared 
unto  it.  Brethering  and  sistering,  one  an' 
all,  I'll  give  you  my  'pinion,  though  not  axed 
fur  it :  a  heap  uv  groanin',  gobs  uv  shoutin' 
and  cryin',  goes  a  grate  ways  toads  settin' 
off  a  meetin'.  It's  half  the  battle,  sartin. 
The  old  inimy  has  to  tuck  his  tail  and  leave 
when  he  hears  it." 


42  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 


HE  APOSTATIZES. 

Johnson''s  "first  love"  did  not  continue 
sufficiently  long  for  him  to  obtain  a  license 
to  preach;  hence  he  never  "held  forth,"  as 
was  confidently  expected.  He  imprudently 
went  out  to  some  public  gathering,  where 
"  candidites, "  his  old  associates,  were  treat- 
ing, got  a  scent  of  his  old  "inimy"  knock- 
'em-stiiF,  tasted  a  little,  and,  some  said,  ' '  got 
tight." 

Be  the  charge  true  or  false,  he  declined 
rapidly  in  his  religious  duties,  and  it  was 
very  afflictive  to  his  preacher  and  class. 
Bellow  and  the  class  did  all  they  could  to 
keep  him  in  duty's  path,  but  all  their  efforts 
signally  failed.  They  never  gave  him  up  till 
they  heard,  with  much  pain,  his  answers  one 
day  to  Parson  Bellow  in  class-meeting.* 

All  the  other  members  of  the  class  had  been 
examined  in  the  usual  way,  and  had  reported 
favorably  in  regard  to  their  religious  pros- 

5  *  The  author  has  no  intention,  in  this  sketch,  to  slur  that 
most  excellent  denomination  of  Christians  among  whom  his 
mother  lived  and  died  a  pious  member. 


JOHNSON    SNOW.  43 

pects  to  the  parson,  and  Johnson  was  the 
last  one  that  was  examined.  He  had  listen- 
ed attentively  to  every  one  in  their  turn,  with 
looks  of  doubt  and  indignation,  as  they  gave 
an  account  of  the  "good  work"  in  their 
hearts,  believing  all  the  time,  judging  from 
his  looks,  that  they  were  "putting  too  much 
paint  in  the  brush."  At  last  the  parson 
approached  him,  when  the  following  ques- 
tions were  asked  and  answers  were  given : 

"How  do  you  come  on.  Brother  Snowf" 
asked  the  parson. 

"I  come  on  my  feet,"  growled  Johnson. 

"But  how  do  you  feel.  Brother  Snow?" 

"  Ha !  ha !  nation  hungry !  I  want  some 
hog's  gullicks  and  turnup  greens  right  smack 
now.  Ef  youVe  got  any  on  'um,  I'm  fur 
'um  right  off.  It  wouldn't  hurt  my  feelin's 
ef  you'd  draw  a  bottle  o'  knock-'em-stiff  on 
me  nuther." 

"But  how  do  you  feel  in  religious  mat- 
ters. Brother  Snow  I  that's  the  question," 
persisted  Bellow., 

"Ha!  ha!  deng  shacklin,  I  tell  you !  I 
hain't  a  thimbleful  o'  religion,  ef  it  was  to 
save  yer  neck  from  the  gallows.     I  can't  tell 


44  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

as  grate  tales  as  the  rest  on  ye  here,  nur  I 
ain't  a-gwine  to  do  it  nuther.  My  chance  is 
mighty  slim ;  but  I  wouldn't  swap  it  fur  some 
uv  yourn  and  a  mess  o'  turnup  greens  to 
boot.  Ax  me  no  more  questions,  else  I'll 
settle  the  hash  with  you  all  quick.  That 
t'other  time  when  I  clared  the  tan-yard  won't 
be  a  primin'  to  it." 

They  took  the  hint,  opened  the  door,  and 
let  him  out,  and  thus  ended  Johnson's  relig- 
ious freak. 

THE   INTERVIEW   AND   TRIUMPH. 

Johnson  Snow  possessed,  in  addition  to 
his  waggish  wit,  a  good  deal  of  "hard  com- 
mon sense  like  a  hoss."  He  was  rich  in  re- 
sources and  expedients,  and  seldom  failed  of 
a  triumph  in  times  of  emergency.  In  all 
the  "tight  fits"  and  "tarnations  snarls"  he 
got  into,  he  would  outfight,  outquarrel,  or 
outwit;  out  he  would  come  with  "flyin' 
colors." 

He  triumphed  over  one  of  the  sternest 
men  in  the  community,  as  the  following  in- 
cident will  show. 

There  lived  in  the  neighborhood  a  rigid 


JOHNSON  SNOW.  45 

Baptist  and  great  "Scriptorian,"  one  of  the 
few  men  in  that  social  region  that  would  not 
take  some  of  the  "good  critter,"  but  hated  it 
most  cordially.  His  aversion  went  so  far 
that  he  would  not  let  a  drunken  man  tarry 
with  him  for  the  night.  He  was  highly  re- 
spected by  all  who  knew  him,  even  by  the 
worst  drunkards,  and  bore  two  titles  which 
were  quite  honorable  then  and  there.  (This 
was  before  Americans  began  to  manufacture 
and  apply  titles  indiscriminately. )  He  was 
always  addressed  very  respectfully  as 
"'Squire  Charles  Taliaferro*"  and  "Cap'en 
Taliaferro." 

Johnson  knew  him  well,  and  was  fully 
aw^are  of  his  hatred  to  his  friend  "Cap'en 
Knock-'em-stiff;"  butwhat  ofthat?  "Ha! 
ha !  I'm  ready  for  the  old  'coon,  cocked  and 
primed,  and  triggers  sprung.  I'll  show  him 
he  don't  know  uvry  thing  about  Scripter 
afore  I'm  done  with  him.  This  boy  has 
dipped  into  Scripter  as  well  as  still-houses, 
sure  as  gun's  iron." 

These  sentences  were  uttered  by  Johnson 
at  a  "still-house,"  not  long  after  he  had  quit 
Parson  Bellow's  church.      He  had  just  made 


46  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

a  bet  with  some  "jewkers"  of  a  gallon  of 
apple  brandy  that  he  could  stay  all  night 
with  "old  Taliaferro,  and  could  beat  him  all 
holler,  too,  talkin'  on  Scrip ter." 

Chuckling  as  above,  he  leaves  a  "still- 
house*"  one  cold  evening,  "high  up  in  the 
picters,"  and  arrived  at  Taliaferro's  gate  just 
at  sunset,  altered  his  voice,  and  hallooed. 
Taliaferro  opened  the  door,  and  our  hero  com- 
menced. 

"Hellow,  old  Scripter ;  I'm  come  to  stay 
all  night  with  you.  I  want  to  talk  all  night 
with  you  on  Scripter.  IVe  hearn  you  was 
a  reg'lar  built  screamer  in  that  way,  and  I 
want  to  try  my  hand  with  you,  sartin. 
'Squire,  I'll  talk  all  round  you.  I'll  ring- 
fire  you  with  Scripter.  Ha !  ha !  see  here, 
cap'en,  ef  you  lick  me  out,  you  can  beat  the 
old  Scripter-maker,  sartin.  I  give  you^ar 
ivarnin\     No  shirkin',  now,  sartin." 

"You  can  not  stay,  Johnson,"  replied  Tal- 
iaferro. "Come  when  you  are  sober,  and 
you  can  stay  a  week,  if  you  wish ;  but  a 
drunken  man  shall  not  stay  all  night  in  my 
house." 

"Don't  be  too  fast,  old  'coon,"  said  John- 


JOHNSON    SNOW.  47 

son;  'Til  show  you  a  trick  ur  two  afore 
I'm  done,  sartin.  You  Humph!  you 
Humph!"  (calling  a  negro  man  named 
Humphrey)  ;  "come  here,  you  bandy-shank- 
ed rascal,  and  take  my  hoss.  Put  him  up, 
and  in  the  mornin',  ef  he  ain't  up  to  his  eyes 
in  corn  and  fodder,  I'll  larrup  you  well. 
Ha  !  ha !  you  b'longed  to  me  once,  you  cat- 
hamed  puke,  but  I  gulluped  you  down  my 
gullick  in  whisky,  and  sold  you  to  this  rich 
man,  Taliaferro,  who's  got  too  big  fur  his 
britches,  and  won't  let  me  stay  all  night 
with  him.  But  I'll  show  him  I'm  a  huckle- 
berry over  his  'simmon,  sartin." 

Orders  were  obeyed ;  the  horse  was  taken, 
and  our  Stewart's  Creek  hero  walked  to  the 
door  and  halted.  He  placed  one  foot  on 
the  door-steps,  his  elbow  upon  his  knee,  his 
chin  in  his  hand,  with  a  face  as  long  as  the 
president  of  a  club  of  Pharisees,  and  com- 
menced his  telling  speech  on  "Scripter." 

"Ha!  ha!  Taliaferro,  I  read  uv  you  in 
Scripter.  You  think  I  know  nuthin'  about 
Scripter,  but  I'll  show  you  afore  I'm  done. 
I  know  and  read  of  you  in  that  holy  book. 
You're  that  rich  man  in  the  parrabul,  which 


48  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

you  may  find  by  sarching  the  16th  chapter  of 
Luke,  that  fared  sumptoriously  uvry  day,  and 
I'm  poor  Lezzerus.  That  rich  man  wouldn't 
let  poor  reflicted  Lezzerus  come  into  his  house, 
nur  will  you  let  me  come  into  yourn  nuther. 
Don't  you  see  the  'nalogy?  But  that  rich 
man  died,  and  how  was  it  with  him,  Talia- 
ferro ?  Be  alarmed,  sir !  Poor  reflicted  Lez- 
zerus died,  too,  and  how  was  it  with  him  ? 
Look  into  Abram's  bosom ;  see  him  restin' 
thar,  safe  as  a  bar  in  a  hollow  tree  in  the 
dead  o'  winter.  Ah  !  you'll  see  how  it  will 
go  with  you  and  me  in  'that  day,'  as  Parson 
Beller  calls  it.  When  I'm  shinin'  away  in 
Abram's  bosom,  like  a  piece  uv  new  money, 
where  will  you  be,  Taliaferro  ?  Don't  Paul, 
in  Hebrews,  tell  you  to  be  '  careful  to  enter- 
tain strangejs — thereby  some  have  entertain- 
ed angels  T  What  good  does  all  yer  Scrip- 
ter  readin'  do  j^ou,  ef  you  don't  'ply  it  bet- 
ter? You'd  better  be  studyin'  Gale's  Al- 
mynac,  for  the  good  it  does  you.  Ha !  ha ! 
you  won't  let  me  come  into  yer  house,  and 
even  eat  the  crumbs  what  falls  from  your 
table,  now  groanin'  and  screechin'  under  rich 
dainties — maybe  some  hog's  gullicks  on  it 


JOHNSON    SNOW.  49 

too.  Ill  go  out  here"  (leaving  the  door,  and 
affecting  to  weep),  "and  lie  down  in  yer 
fence  corner,  and  let  yer  dogs  come  and  lick 
my  sores.  You'll  see  how  it  will  go  with  us 
in  that  day,  sartin." 

"Come  back,  Johnson,"  said  Taliaferro, 
"and  stay  all  night.  I  acknowledge  my- 
self beaten  for  once  in  'Scripter.*'  You  cer- 
tainly got  your  lesson  well  while  you  were 
in  Bellow's  church."' 

C 


50  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 


lY.— UNCLE  DAVY  LANE. 

I  MUST  not  forget,  in  these  random  sketch- 
es, my  old  friend  and  neighbor  Uncle  Davy 
Lane.  Some  men  make  an  early  and  de- 
cided impression  upon  you — features,  actions, 
habits,  all  the  entire  man,  real  and  artificial. 
"Uncle  Davy"  Avas  that  kind  of  man. 

I  will  mention  a  few  things  that  make  me 
remember  him.  His  looks  were  peculiar. 
He  was  tall,  dark,  and  rough-skinned ;  lym- 
phatic, dull,  and  don't-care-looking  in  his 
whole  physiognomy.  He  had  lazy  looks 
and  movements.  Nothing  could  move  him 
out  of  a  slow,  horse-mill  gait  but  snakes,  of 
which  "creeturs  he  Avas  monstrous  Yraid." 
The  reader  shall  soon  have  abundant  evi- 
dence of  the  truth  of  this  admission  in  his 
numerous  and  rapid  flights  from  "  sarpunts." 

Uncle  Davy  was  a  gunsmith,  and,  as  an 
evidence  of  the  fact,  he  carried  about  with 
him  the  last  gun  he  ever  made.      His  gun,  a 


UNCLE    DAVY    LANE.  5I 

rifle,  was  characteristic  of  its  maker  and  own- 
er— rough  and  unfinished  outside,  but  good 
within.  It  was  put  in  an  old  worm-eaten 
half-stock  which  he  had  picked  up  some- 
where, and  the  barrel  had  never  been  dressed 
nor  ground  outside.  He  would  visit  a  neigh- 
bor early  in  the  morning,  sit  down  with  his 
rifle  across  his  knees,  in  "too  great  a  hurry" 
to  set  it  aside,  would  stay  all  day,  would  lay 
it  by  only  at  meals,  which  he  seldom  refused, 
but  "never  was  a-hongry." 

He  had  a  great  fund  of  long-winded  sto- 
ries and  incidents,  mostly  manufactured  by 
himself — some  few  he  had  "hearn" — and 
would  bore  you  or  edify  you,  as  it  might  turn 
out,  from  sun  to  sun,  interspersing  them  now 
and  then  with  a  dull,  guttural,  lazy  laugh. 

He  became  quite  a  proverb  in  the  line  of 
big  story-telling.  True,  he  had  many  obsti- 
nate competitors,  but  he  distanced  them  all 
farther  than  he  did  the  numerous  snakes 
that  "run  arter  him."  He  had  given  his 
ambitious  competitors  fair  warning  thus : 

"Ef  any  on'um  beats  me,  Til  sell  out  ray 
deadnin^  and  hustle  off  to  other  deadnin's." 

In  sheer  justice  to  Uncle  Daw,  however, 


52  ^         FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

and  with  pleasure  I  record  the  fact,  that  he 
reformed  his  life,  became  a  Christian,  I  hope, 
as  well  as  a  Baptist,  and  died  a  penitent 
man. 

As  stated,  he  was  never  known  to  get  out 
of  a  snail's  gallop  only  when  in  contact  with 
snakes;  and  the  reader  shall  now  have,  in 
Uncle  Davy's  own  style,  an  account  of  his 
flight  from  a  coachwhip  snake. 

THE  CHASE. 

"I  had  a  hog  claim  over  beyant  Moor's 
Fork,  and  I  concluded  I'd  take  old  Buck- 
smasher  (his  rifle),  and  go  inter  the  big 
huckleberry  patch,  on  Bound  Hill,  in  sarch 
for  'um.  Ofi*  I  trolloj)ed,  and  toddled  about 
for  some  time,  but  couldn't  find  head  nur 
tail  uv  'um.  But  while  I  was  moseyin' 
about,  I  cum  right  chug  upon  one  uv  the 
biggest,  longest,  outdaciousest  coachwhip 
snakes  I  uver  laid  my  peepers  on.  He 
rared  right  straight  up,  like  a  May-pole, 
licked  out  his  tarnacious  tongue,  and  good 
as  said,  '  Here's  at  you,  sir.  What  bizness 
have  you  on  my  grit  T     Now  I'd  hearn  folks 


UNCLE    DAVY    I.ANE.  53 

say  ef  you'd  look  a  vinimus  animil  right 
plump  in  the  eyes  he  wouldn't  hurt  you. 
Now  I  tried  it  good,  just  like  I  were  trying 
to  look  through  a  mill-stone.  But,  bless  you, 
honey !  he  had  no  more  respect  fur  a  man's 
face  and  eyes  than  he  had  fur  a  huckleberry, 
sure's  gun's  iron.  So  I  seed  clearly  that  I'd 
have  to  try  my  trotters. 

"I  dashed  down  old  Bucksmasher,  and 
jumped  'bout  ten  steps  the  fust  leap,  and  on 
I  went  wusser  nur  an  old  buck  fur  'bout  a 
quarter,  and  turned  my  noggin  round  to  look 
fur  the  critter.  Jehu  Nimshi !  thar  he  were 
right  dab  at  my  heels,  head  up,  tongue  out, 
and  red  as  a  nail-rod,  and  his  eyes  like  two 
balls  uv  fire,  red  as  chain  lightnin'.  I  'creased 
my  verlocity,  jumped  logs  twenty  foot  high, 
clarin'  thick  bushes,  and  bush-heaps,  deep  gul- 
lies, and  branches.  Again  I  looked  back, 
thinkin'  I  had  sartinly  left  it  a  long  gap  be- 
hind. And  what  do  you  think?  By  jin- 
go! he'd  hardly  begun  to  run — jist  gittin' 
his  hand  in.  So  I  jist  put  flatly  down  again 
faster  than  uver.  'Twasn't  long  afore  I  run 
out'n  my  shot-bag,  I  went  so  fast,  then  out'n 
my  shirt,  then    out'n   my  britches — luther 


54  FISHER'W    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

britches  at  that — then  away  went  my  draw- 
ers. Thus  I  run  clean  out*'n  all  my  linnen 
a  half  a  mile  afore  I  got  home ;  and,  thinks 
I,  surely  the  tarnul  sarpunt  are  distanced 
now. 

"But  what  do  you  think  now?  Nebu- 
chadnezzar !  thar  he  were,  fresh  as  a  mount- 
ing buck  jist  scared  up.  I  soon  seen  that 
wouldn't  do,  so  I  jumped  about  thirty-five 
foot,  screamed  like  a  wildcat,  and  'creased  ray 
verlocity  at  a  monstrous  rate.  Jist  then  I 
begun  to  feel  my  skin  split,  and,  thinks  I, 
it's  no  use  to  run  out'n  my  skin,  like  I  have 
out'n  my  linnen,  as  huming  skin  are  scarce, 
so  I  tuck  in  a  leetle. 

"But  by  this  time  I'd  run  clean  beyant 
my  house,  right  smack  through  my  yard, 
scaring  Molly  and  the  childering,  dogs,  cats, 
chickens — uvry  thing — half  to  death.  But, 
you  see,  I  got  shet  uv  my  inimy,  the  sar- 
punt, fur  it  had  respect  fur  my  house,  ef  it 
hadn't  fur  my  face  and  eyes  in  the  woods. 
I  puffed,  and  blowed,  and  sweated  'bout  half 
an  hour  afore  I  had  wind  to  tell  Molly  and 
the  childering  what  were  the  matter. 

"Poor    old    Bucksmasher    staid    several 


UNCLE    DAVY    LANE.  55 

days  in  the  woods  afore  I  could  have  the 
pluck  to  go  arter  him." 

When  Uncle  Davy  told  one  snake  story, 
he  must  needs  exhaust  his  stock,  big  and 
little.  After  breathing  a  little  from  telling 
his  coachwhip  story,  which  always  excited 
him,  he  would  introduce  and  tell  the  story 
of  his  adventure  with 

THE  HORN-SNAKE. 

"Fur  some  time  arter  I  were  chased  by 
that  sassy  coachwhip,  I  were  desput  Yraid 
uv  snakes.  My  har  would  stand  on  eend, 
stiff  as  hog's  bristles,  at  the  noise  uv  uvry 
lizzard  that  ran  through  the  leaves,  and  my 
flesh  would  jerk  like  a  dead  beef's. 

"But  at  last  I  ventured  to  go  into  the 
face  uv  the  Kound  Peak  one  day  a-huntin\ 
I  were  skinnin''  my  eyes  fur  old  bucks,  with 
my  head  up,  not  thinkin'  about  sarpunts, 
when,  by  Zucks!  I  cum  right  plum  upon 
one  uv  the  curiousest  snakes  I  uver  seen  in 
all  my  borned  days.  • 

"Fur  a  spell  I  were  spellbound  in  three 
foot  uv  it.     There  it  lay  on  the  side  uv  a 


56  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

steep  presserpis,  at  full  length,  ten  foot  long, 
its  tail  strait  out,  right  up  the  presserpis, 
head  big  as  a  sasser,  right  toards  me,  eyes 
red  as  forked  lightnin',  lickin'  out  his  forked 
tongue,  and  I  could  no  more  move  than  the 
Ball  Rock  on  Fisher's  Peak.  But  when  I 
seen  the  stinger  in  his  tail,  six  inches  long 
and  sharp  as  a  needle,  stickin"*  out  like  a 
cock's  spur,  I  thought  I'd  a  drapped  in  my 
tracks.  I'd  ruther  a  had  uvry  coachwhip 
on  Round  Hill  arter  me  en  full  chase  than 
to  a  bin  in  that  drefful  siteation. 

"Thar  I  stood,  petterfied  with  relarm — 
couldn't  budge  a  peg — couldn't  even  take  old 
Bucksmasher  off  uv  my  shoulder  to  shoot 
the  infarnul  thing.  Nyther  uv  us  moved 
nor  bolted  'ur  eyes  fur  fifteen  minits. 

"At  last,  as  good  luck  would  have  it,  a 
rabbit  run  close  by,  and  the  snake  turned  its 
eyes  to  look  what  it  were,  and  that  broke 
the  charm,  and  I  jumped  forty  foot  down  the 
mounting,  and  dashed  behind  a  big  white  oak 
five  foot  in  diamatur.  The  snake  he  cotched 
the  'eend  uv  his  tail  in  his  mouth,  he  did, 
and  come  rollin'  down  the  mounting  arter 
me  jist  like  a  hoop,  and  jist  as  I  landed  be- 


UNCLE    DAVY    LANE.  57 

hind  the  tree  he  struck  t'other  side  with  his 
stinger,  and  stuv  it  up,  clean  to  his  tail, 
smack  in  the  tree.     He  were  fast. 

"Of  all  the  hissin'  and  bio  win'  that  uver 
you  hearn  sense  you  seen  daylight,  it  tuck 
the  lead.  Ef  there'd  a  bin  forty-nine  forges 
all  a-blowin'  at  once,  it  couldn't  a  beat  it. 
He  rared  and  charged,  lapped  round  the  tree, 
spread  his  mouf  and  grinned  at  me  orful, 
puked  and  spit  quarts  an'  quarts  of  green  pi- 
sen  at  me,  an'  made  the  ar  stink  with  his  nas- 
ty breath. 

"I  seen  thar  were  no  time  to  lose;  I 
cotched  up  old  Bucksmasher  from  whar  I'd 
dashed  him  down,  and  tried  to  shoot  the 
tarnil  thing;  but  he  kep'  sich  a  movin' 
about  and  sich  a  splutteration  that  I  couldn't 
git  a  bead  at  his  head,  for  I  know'd  it  warn't 
wuth  while  to  shoot  him  any  whar  else.  So 
I  kep'  my  distunce  tell  he  wore  hisself  out, 
then  I  put  a  ball  right  between  his  eyes,  and 
he  gin  up  the  ghost. 

"Soon  as  he  were  dead  I  happened  to 

look  up   inter  the  tree,  and  what  do  you 

think  ?     Why,  sir,  it  were  dead  as  a  herrin' ; 

all  the  leaves  was  wilted  like  a  fire  had  gone 

through  its  branches. 

C  2 


58  FISHEK'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

"I  left  the  old  feller  with  his  stinger  in 
the  tree,  thinkin'  it  were  the  best  place  fur 
him,  and  moseyed  home,  'tarmined  not  to  go 
out  agin  soon. 

"Now  folks  may  talk  as  they  please  'bout 
there  bein'  no  sich  things  as  horn-snakes, 
but  what  I've  seen  I've  seen,  and  what  I've 
jist  norated  is  true  as  the  third  uv  Mathy. 

"  I  mout  add  that  I  passed  that  tree  three 
weeks  arterwards,  and  the  leaves  and  the 
whole  tree  was  dead  as  a  door-nail.  ' 

Uncle  Davy's  mind  was  trained  in  a  sort 
of  horse-mill  track,  and  would  pass  from  one 
story  to  another  with  great  naturalness  and 
ease.  No  sooner  was  he  done  with  the  horn- 
snake  rencounter,  after  giving  you  time  to  use 
some  word  of  astonishment,  note  of  exclama- 
tion— some  sign  of  approbation  or  disappro- 
bation, it  made  but  little  odds  which — he 
would  commence  the  story  of 

THE  RATTLESNAKE  BITE. 

"I  thort  my  sarpunt  difficulties  was  sar- 
tinly  ended  arter  that  desput  horn-snake 
scrape  ;  but  hush,  honey !   they'd  jist  begun. 


UNCLE    DAVY    LANE.  59 

T'other  two  was  jist  little  frightnin's ;  this 
that  I'm  a-gwine  to  narrate  was  a  sure- 
enough  bite.  He  waded  inter  me  far  enufF. 
It  happened  arter  this  fashion : 

"  I  knowed  whar  thar  was  a  mighty  nice 
blackberry  patch,  'bout  a  mile  from  home. 
I  'tarmined  to  have  a  bait  out'n  'um,  and 
some  on  'um  for  Molly  to  make  a  pie  out'n, 
fur  I'm  mighty  fond  uv  blackberry  pies — 
nothin'  nicer,  'ceptin'  a  raal  North  Carolina 
puddin'.  So  off  I  piked  to  the  old  field 
whar  they  was.  I  didn't  'spect  to  see  any 
old  bucks  to  smash,  so  I  didn't  take  old 
Bucksmasher  with  me  that  time,  which  I 
nairly  always  done,  nur  did  I — lack-a-day !  — 
know  what  were  to  befall  me  that  drefful, 
drefful  day. 

"I  'riv  on  the  spot  in  the  cool  uv  the 
evenin',  which  it  were  mighty  hot  weather, 
waded  into  'um  without  ceremony  ur  inter- 
duction,  and  eat  a  bushel  on  'um  afore  I 
picked  any  fur  the  family.  Last  I  seen  a 
monstrous  big  brier  full  uv  great  big  'uns, 
big  as  hen's  eggs.  I  were  so  taken  with  'um, 
with  my  head  as  high  as  ef  I  was  looking  at 
the  stars,  I  went  up,  and,  says  I  to  myself. 


00  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES, 

'  111  soon  hev  my  basket  full  uv  these  mas- 
ter fellers ;  they'll  make  bully  pies, ' 

"I  were  pickin'  away  hard  as  I  could 
clatter,  barefooted  as  the  day  I  were  horned, 
when  I  felt  suthin  rakin'  my  feet  wusser 
than  sawbriers.  But  I  picked  on,  and  nuver 
looked  down  to  see  what  were  the  matter, 
thinking  all  the  time  it  were  briers.  But  it 
got  wusser  and  wusser  till  it  were  no  use. 

1  looked  down  to  see  what  were  the  matter, 
and  what  do  you  think?  Why,  thar  were 
the  biggest  rattlesnake  that  uver  were  seen 
or  hearn  tell  on — would  a  filled  a  washin''-tub 
to  the  brim.  There  he  were  peggin'  away  at 
my  feet  and  legs  like  he  were  the  hongriest 
critter  on  yeth. 

"I  jist  let  all  holts  go,  and  begun  to  jump 
right  up  and  down,  full  thirty  foot  high,  fur 
a  dozen  times,  I  reckon,  screamin'  like  an 
Injun,  allers  lightin'  in  an  inch  uv  the  same 
place.  Ev'ry  time  I'd  strike  the  yeth  the 
cussed  sarpunt  would  peg  away  at  me.  At 
last  the  spell  were  broke,  and  I  moseyed 
home  at  an  orful  rate.  It's  no  use  to  say 
how  fast  I  did  run,  fur  nobody  would  bleeve 
it,  but  I  can  say  in  truth,  the  runnin'  from 


UNCLE    DAVY    LANE.  (Jl 

the  coachwhip  warn't  a  primin"'  to  it.     No, 
sir! 

"Now  I'd  hearn  that  sweet  milk  were  a 
mighty  remedy  fur  snake-bites,  and,  as  good 
luck  would  have  it,  Molly  and  the  childer- 
ing  had  jist  got  home  from  the  cuppen*  with 
the  milk  of  seven  master  cows  to  give  milk, 
and  I,  without  sayin'  a  word,  drunk  down 
uvry  drap  uv  it.  They  looked  mighty  curi- 
ous at  me.  Soon  I  got  monstrous  sick,  and 
commenced  puking  at  an  orful  rate.  Up 
come  milk  and  blackberries,  all  mixed  up 
together,  makin'  a  relarmin'  mess  to  the  fam- 
ily. They  begun  to  beller  and  squall  like 
ten  thousand  Injuns  were  arter  'um  and 
skelpin'  on  'um,  and  me  so  sick  I  couldn't 
say  a  word.  I  thort  in  my  soul  I  should 
puke  up  the  bottoms  of  my  feet.  No  poor 
little  mangy  pig  uver  hove  and  set  at  a  'ta- 
ter-hill  wusser  nur  I  did.  When  I'd  hulled 
out  uvry  thing  innardly,  I  run  to  the  whis- 
ky-kag,  snatched  it  up,  and  landed  at  least 
two  gallons  down  me.  This  were  the  king 
V  cure-all.      I  went  to  sleep  in  less  than  no 

time,  nuver  said  a  word  to  any  on  'um,  and 

*  Cow-pen. 


(52  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

waked  up  next  mornin'  ready  fur  breakfust, 
and  eat  more'n  common,  seein'  I  Avere  tollu- 
ble  empty."" 

Uncle  Davy  has  one  more  "sarpunt  sto- 
ry," which  I  will  not  let  him  tell  now,  but 
will  reserve  it  for  his  last  story.  I  will  now 
give  the  reader,  for  the  sake  of  variety,  some 
of  his  hunting  feats  and  stories,  which  will 
show  him  to  have  been  a  hero  in  that  an- 
cient and  honorable  occupation. 

We  have  it  from  ancient  and  the  best  au- 
thority that  "Nimrod  was  a  mighty  hunter 
before  the  Lord."  Uncle  Davy  was  a  sec- 
ond Nimrod  at  least.  To  allow  Uncle  Davy 
to  decide  the  question,  the  Eastern  hunter, 
Nimrod,  who  has  been  deified  as  Hercules 
for  his  wondrous  feats,  has  been  immeasura- 
bly eclipsed  by  the  Western  hunter,  the 
Fisher's  River  Davy  Lane.  Hercules  hunt- 
ed with  a  club ;  Uncle  Davy  with  old  Buck- 
smasher.  Hercules  was  doomed  to  hunt 
and  perform  his  feats ;  Uncle  Davy  did  his 
without  compulsion.  Poets  and  historians 
have  sung  and  told  the  stories  of  Hercules  ; 
Uncle  Davy  tells  his  oAvn  stories.      A  fruit- 


^      UNCLE    DAVY    LANE.  g3 

ful  imagination  could  run  the  analogy  end- 
lessly ;   but  I  shut  down  upon  it. 

I  shall  not  record  a  tithe  of  the  hunting 
stories  of  my  Western  Hercules,  for  they 
would  make  a  ponderous  volume.  Only  a 
few  samples  of  the  many  shall  be  given ; 
and  I  here  take  occasion  to  express  the  sin- 
cere hope  that  my  countrymen  will  never  re- 
turn to  such  a  state  of  barbarism  as  to  deify 
our  Fisher's  Hiver  hero,  as  the  ancients  did 
Hercules,  and  make  for  him  a  mythology 
out  of  these  imperfect  records ;  for  I  now 
testify  to  all  coming  generations  that  Uncle 
Davy  Lane  was  but  a  mortal  man,  and  has 
been  gathered  to  his  fathers  for  several  years. 
But  excuse  this  digression  :  my  plea  is,  The 
importance  of  the  subject  demanded  it. 

I  will  give  but  s^feiv  of  my  hero's  stories, 
and  will  begin,  without  being  choice,  with 

THE  FAST-EUNNING'  BUCK. 

"Now  I'd  smashed  up  so  many  master 
old  bucks  'bout  Fisher's  Gap,  Blaze  Spur, 
Flour  Gap,  clean  round  to  Ward's  Gap,*  I 
'eluded  they  mout  be  gittin'  scass,  and  I'd 

*  Different  crossing-places  of  the  Blue  Ridge. 


64  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

let  'um  rest  a  spell,  and  try  my  luck  in  oth- 
er woods;  so  I  toddled  off  to  the  Sugar 
Loaf.* 

"Now  I  know'd  it  were  the  time  uv  year 
fur  old  bucks  to  be  hard  nin'  thar  horns,  so 
I  tuck  the  sunny  side  uv  the  Sugar  Loaf.  I 
kep'  my  eyes  skinned  all  the  way  up,  but 
nuver  seen  any  thing  tell  I  got  nairly  to  the 
top,  when  up  jumped  one  uv  the  poxtakedest 
biggest  old  bucks  you  uver  seen.  He  dash- 
ed round  the  mounting  faster  nur  a  shootin' 
star  ur  lightnin'.  But,  howsomever,  I  blazed 
away  at  him,  but  he  were  goin**  so  fast  round 
the  Loaf,  and  the  bullet  goin'  strait  forrud, 
I  missed  him.  Ev'ry  day  fur  a  week  I  went 
to  that  spot,  allers  jumped  him  up  in  ten 
steps  uv  the  same  place,  would  fire  away, 
but  allers  missed  him,  as  jist  norated. 

"I  felt  that  my  credit  as  a  marksman,  and 
uv  old  Bucksmasher,  was  gittin'  mighty  un- 
der repair.  I  didn't  like  to  be  outgineraled 
in  any  sich  a  way  by  any  sich  a  critter. 
I  could  smash  bucks  anywhar  and  any 
time,  but  that  sassy  rascal,  I  couldn't  tech  a 

*  A  lofty  peak  of  the  Blue  Ridge,  running  up  in  a  beautiful 
conical  form,  resembling  a  sugar-loaf. 


BENDINti   mjC'KBMABUEU. 


UNCLE  DAVY  LANE. 


har  on  him.  He  were  a  perfect  dar-devil. 
One  whole  night  I  didn't  sleep  a  Avink — 
didn't  bolt  my  eyes — fixin'  up  my  plan. 
Next  mornin'  I  went  right  smack  inter  my 
blacksmith  shop,  tuck  my  hammer,  and  bent 
old  Bucksmasher  jist  to  suit  the  mounting,  so 
that  when  the  pesky  old  buck  started  round 
the  mounting  the  bullet  mout  take  the  twist 
with  him,  and  thus  have  a  far  shake  in  the 
race. 

"I  loadened  up,  and  moseyed  off  to  try 
the  'speriment.  I  Vuv  at  the  spot,  and  up 
he  jumped,  hoisted  his  tail  like  a  kite,  kicked 
up  his  heels  in  a  banterin'  manner,  fur  he'd 
outdone  me  so  often  he'd  got  raal  sassy.  I 
lammed  away  at  him,  and  away  he  went 
round  the  mounting,  and  the  bullet  arter 
him — so  good  a  man,  and  so  good  a  boy.  I 
stood  chock  still.  Presently  round  they 
come  like  a  streak  uv  sunshine,  both  buck 
and  bullit,  bullit  singin'  out,  'Whar  is  it? 
whar  is  it  T  '  Go  it,  my  fellers, '  says  I,  and 
away  they  went  round  the  Loaf  like  a  Blue 
Bidge  storm.  Afore  you  could  crack  yer 
finger  they  was  around  agin,  bucklety-whet. 
Jist  as  they  got  agin  me,  bullit  throwed  him. 


68  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

"I  throwed  down  old  Bucksmasher,  out 
with  my  butcher-knife,  jerked  off  rny  shot-bag 
and  hung  it  on  the  horn  uv  one  uv  the  purtiest 
things  you  uver  seen.  I  thort  I'd  look  at  it 
better  when  I  stuck  my  buck.  I  knifed  him 
monstrous  quick,  and  turned  round  to  look  at 
the  curious  thing  I'd  hung  my  shot-bag  on, 
and  it  were  gone  most  outn  sight.  I  soon 
seen  it  were  the  moon  passin'  along,  and  I'd 
hung  my  shot-bag  on  the  corner  uv  it.  I 
hated  mightily  to  lose  it,  fur  it  had  all  my 
ammernition  in  it,  and  too  'bout  a  pound  uv 
Thompson's  powder.* 

But  I  shouldered  my  old  buck,  moseyed 
home,  skinned  and  weighed  him,  and  he 
weighed  150  pounds  clean  weight.  I  slep' 
sound  that  night,  fur  I'd  gained  the  victory. 
I  went  next  day  to  look  fur  the  moon,  and 
to  git  my  shot-bag,  pervided  it  hadn't  spilt  it 
off  in  moseyin'  so  fast.  Sure  'nuff,  it  come 
mosey  in'  along  next  day,  jist  at  the  same 
time  o'  day,  with  my  shot-bag  on  its  horn. 
I  snatched  it  off,  and  told  it  to  mosey  on 
'bout  its  business. 

*  A  favorite  powder  with  hunters  in  that  S3ction,  made  by 
a  man  named  John  Thompson.  I  have  no  doubt  of  its  being 
the  best  powder  in  the  world. 


UNCLE    DAVY    LANE.  QQ 

"Now  thar's  some  things  111  describe  the 
best  I  can,  and  I'm  a  tolluble  hand  at  it, 
though  I  say  it ;  but  I  nuver  will  tell  a  hu- 
man critter  how  that  moon  looked.  But 
111  say  this  much :  all  that  talk  of  'stroni- 
my  and  lossify  'bout  the  moon  are  nonsense ; 
that's  what  I  Tcnoiv.  They  can't  fool  this  old 
'coon,  fur  what  I  knoAv  I  know — what  I've 
seen  I've  seen." 

After  a  lazy  laugh,  in  which  he  cared  not 
whether  you  engaged  or  not— at  least  his 
looks  would  so  indicate — Uncle  Davy  would 
straighten  himself,  fetch  a  long  breath,  charge 
his  mouth  with  a  fresh  chew  of  tobacco,  and 
would  proceed  to  tell  of  his 

RIDE   IN   THE  PEACH-TREE. 

"  Now  when  I  got  my  shot-bag  off  uv  the 
moon,  I  lost  no  time,  which  I'd  lost  a  great 
deal  arter  that  old  buck,  as  jist  riorated.  I 
moseyed  home  in  a  hurry,  straightened  old 
Bucksmasher,  and  piked  off  to  Skull  Camp* 

*  A  spur  of  the  Blue  Ridge,  at  the  foot  of  which  one  or  two 
human  skeletons  were  found  at  the  first  settling  of  the  country, 
where  there  were  signs  of  an  old  hunters'  camp ;  hence  the 
name  of  the  mountain. 


70  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

to  smash  up  a  few  old  bucks  on  that  grit. 
Soon  as  I  landed  I  seen  'bout  a  dozen  old 
bucks  and  one  old  doe.  I  planted  myself, 
fur  they  was  comm'  right  smack  to''ads  me, 
and  I  waited  tell  they  got  in  shootin'  range, 
as  it  were.  I  knowed  ef  I  smashed  Mrs. 
Doe  fust  I'd  be  right  apt  to  smash  all  the 
Mr.  Bucks.  That's  the  way  with  all  crea- 
tion— the  males  allers  a-traipsin'  arter  the 
females. 

"  So  I  lammed  away  at  her,  fetched  her 
to  the  yeth,  and  the  bucks  scampered  off. 
Agin  I  got  loadened  up  they  come  back  to 
the  doe,  smellin"'  round,  and  I  blazed  away 
agin,  and  tripped  up  the  heels  uv  one  uv 
'um.  They'd  run  off  a  little  ways  uvry  time, 
but  agin  I'd  load  up  thar'd  allers  be  one 
ready  to  be  smashed,  and  I  jist  kep'  smashin' 
away  tell  there  were  but  one  left,  and  he 
were  a  whopper. 

"I  felt  in  my  shot-bag,  and,  pox  take  the 
luck !  there  warn't  a  bullit  in  it — nothin' 
but  a  peach-stone.  I  crammed  it  down, 
thort  I'd  salute  him  wdth  that,  and  blazed 
away,  aimin'  to  hit  him  right  behind  the 
wethers,  and,  by   golly !    ef  he   didn't   slap 


UNCLE    DAVY    LANE.  7]^ 

down  his  tail  and  outrun  creation,  and  give 
it  two  in  the  game.  I  run  up,  out  with  my 
butcher-knife,  stuck  uvry  one  on  'um  afore 
you  could  cry  'cavy.  And  sich  a  pile  on 
'um,  all  lyin'  cross  and  pile,  you  nuver  seen 
in  yer  horned  days. 

"I  moseyed  home  in  a  turkey-trot,  got 
Jim  and  Sanders  and  the  little  waggin,  went 
arter  'um,  and,  I  tell  you,  we  had  nice  livin' 
fur  a  fortnight.  Some  o'  the  old  bucks 
would  a  cut  four  inches  clare  fat  on  the 
rump.  Molly  didn't  hev  to  use  any  hog  fat 
nur  fry  no  bacon  with  'um.  We  sopped 
both  sides  uv  ur  bread,  and  greased  ur 
mouths  from  ear  to  ear.  It  made  the  chil- 
dering  as  sassy  as  it  does  a  sea-board  feller 
when  he  gits  his  belly  full  uv  herrin'.  Thar 
was  skins  plenty  to  make  me  and  all  the 
boys  britches,  and  to  buy  ammernition  to 
keep  old  Bucksmasher  a-talkin'  fur  a  long 
time,  fur  he's  a  mighty  gabby  old  critter  to 
varmunts  uv  uvry  kind,  well  as  to  old  bucks, 
he  is. 

"Arter  makin  a  desput  smash  among  old 
bucks  uvry  whar  else  fur  three  very  long 
years,  I  thort  I'd  try  my  luck  in  Skull  Camp 


72  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

agin.  I  took  plenty  uv  ammernition  with 
me  this  time — didn't  care  about  shootin' 
peach-stones  any  more  out'n  old  Bucksmash- 
er — and  piked  off  full  tilt. 

"Soon  as  I  got  on  good  hunting  yeth,  I 
seen  right  by  the  side  uv  a  clift  uv  rocks  (I 
were  on  the  upper  side  uv  the  clift)  a  fine 
young  peach-tree,  full  uv  master  plum  peach- 
es. I  were  monstrous  hongry  and  dry,  and 
thanked  my  stars  fur  the  good  luck.  I  sot 
down  old  Bucksmasher,  stepped  from  the  top 
uv  the  clift  inter  the  peach-tree — nuver  look- 
ed down  to  see  whar  it  were  growin' — jerked 
out  old  Butch,  and  went  to  eatin'  riproarin' 
fashion. 

"I  hadn't  gulluped  down  more'n  fifty 
master  peaches  afore,  by  golly!  the  tree 
started  off,  with  me  in  it,  faster  nur  you 
uver  seen  a  scared  wolf  run.  When  it  had 
run  a  mile  ur  so,  I  looked  down  to  see  what 
it  mout  mean.  And  what  do  you  think? 
True  as  preaching  the  peach-tree  was  grow- 
in'  out'n  an  old  buck,  right  behind  his 
shoulders. 

"I  thort  my  time  had  come,  for  on  he 
jnoseyed  over  logs,  rocks,  clifts,  and  all  sorts 


UNCLE    DAVY    LANE.  73 

o'  things,  and  me  up  in  the  tree.  He  went 
so  fast,  he  did,  that  he  split  the  wind,  and 
made  it  roar  in  my  head  like  a  harricane.  I 
tried  to  pray,  but  soon  found  I  had  no  breath 
to  spar  in  that  way,  fur  he  went  so  orful  fast 
that  my  wind  was  sometimes  clean  gone. 
He  run  in  that  fashion  fur  fifteen  mile,  gin 
out,  stopped  to  rest,  when  I  got  out'n  my 
fast-runnin'  stage  mighty  soon,  and  glad  o' 
the  chance. 

"I  left  him  pantin'  away  like  he  were 
mighty  short  o'  wind,  returned  thanks  fur 
once,  tuck  my  foot  in  my  hand,  and  walked 
all  the  way  back  to  old  Bucksmasher.  I 
seen  more  old  bucks  on  my  way  than  I  uver 
seen  in  the  same  length  uv  time  in  all  my 
borned  days.  They  knowed  jist  as  well  as  I 
did  that  I  had  nothin'  to  smash  'um  with. 
Thar  they  was  a-kickin'  up  thar  heels  and 
snortin'  at  me  fur  fifteen  long  miles — ^miles 
measured  with  a  'coon-skin,  and  the  tail 
throwed  in  fur  good  measure,  fur  sure.  It 
were  a  mighty  trial,  but  I  grinned  and  en- 
dured it.  I  piked  on  and  landed  at  the 
place  whar  I  started  in  my  peach-tree  stage, 

found  old  Bucksmasher,  shouldered  him,  and 
D 


74  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

moseyed  fur  home,  with  my  feathers  cut,  fur 
I'd  made  a  water  haul  that  time,  fur  sure  and 
sartin. " 

"To — be — shore,  Mr.  Lanef  said  old  Mr. 
Wilmoth,  a  good,  credulous  old  man ;  "  ef  I 
didn't  know  you  to  be  a  man  of  truth,  I 
couldn't  believe  you.  How  do  you  think 
that  peach-tree  come  up  in  the  back  of  that 
deer  ?" 

"Bless  you,  man !  it  was  from  the  peach- 
stone  I  shot  in  his  back,  as  jist  norated — 
nothin'  plainer." 

Our  hero  loved  to  tell  of  his  adventures 
with  other  "villinus  varmunts"  as  well  as 
with  "old  bucks."  We  will  now  hear  him 
"let  off"  with  his  marvelous  adventure  with 
that  ever-dreaded  and  feared  monster, 

THE  PANTHER. 

"Arter  this  dreadful  relarm  jist  norated, 
I  thort  I'd  not  go  inter  the  Skull  Camp 
Mountings  agin  soon,  so  I  sot  my  compass  fur 
Fisher's  Peak  to  try  my  luck.  I  crossed  it 
at  the  Bald  Rock,*  and  went  back  uv  it  a 

*  Near  the  top  of  Fisher's  Peak,  on  the  south  side,  there  is  a 
large  rock,  about  an  acre  in  size,  calle  1  the  "  Bald  Rock." 


UNCLE    DAVY    LANE.  75 

piece,  skinnin'  my  eyes  all  the  time  fur  old 
bucks,  when  I  come  up  chug  upon  one,  dead 
as  a  mittin — -jist  killed.  Thar  warn't  the 
sign  uv  a  bullit  on  it;  it  were  desputly 
scratched  up  and  raked  hither  and  thither, 
and  the  yeth  and  leaves  was  tore  up  all 
round.  Says  I,  '111  skin  you,  any  how, 
and  make  suthin  out'n  your  hide.' 

"I  tuck  oiF  his  jacket  quick,  hung  it  up, 
piked  on  furder,  and  found  another  jist  in 
the  same  fix.  Says  I,  '  This  is  a  cheap  way 
of  gittin'  old  bucks'  skins,  fur  sure.  No 
wastin'  ammernition  here,  for  Thompson's 
powder  and  Pearce's  lead*  is  mighty  pre- 
cious.' So  I  tuck  oif  his  clothin'  in  three 
shakes  of  a  sheep's  tail. 

"On  I  moseyed  tell  I  ondressed  eight 
master  bucks  in  the  same  way,  tell  I  were  in 
a  lather  uv  sweat,  fur  it  was  tolluble  hot. 
When  I  come  to  the  ninth,  the  sign  was 
fresher  and  fresher;  it  was  hardly  done 
kickin'.  I  ondressed  him  too,  nuver  think- 
in'  fur  a  minit  what  it  were  a-smashin'  up 
old  bucks  in  that  drefful  way. 

*  Hunters  in  that  section  obtained  their  lead  at  Pearce's 
lead  mines,  Poplar  Camp  Mountain,  Wythe  County,  Virginia. 


76  FISHER'S   RIVER    SKETCHES. 

"  Jist  as  I  riz  up  from  skinnin'*  him,  I 
looked  up  in  a  post-oak-tree  right  dab  over 
me,  and  there  sot  the  biggest  painter  that  uver 
walked  the  Blue  Kidge,  fur  sure.  Thar  he 
sot  on  a  limb,  his  eyes  shinin'  away  like  new 
money,  slappin'  his  tail  jist  like  a  cat  gwine 
to  jump  on  a  rat.  I  like  to  a  sunk  in  my 
tracks.  Poor,  helpless  critter  I  was.  I  thort 
about  prayin',  but  I  seen  there  were  no  time 
fur  that ;  so  I  kep^  my  eyes  on  him,  stepped 
four  ur  five  steps  backwards  to'ads  where 
I'd  sot  old  Bucksmasher,  thinkin'  thar  mout 
be  more  vartue  in  powder  and  lead  than  in 
prayers  jist  then.  I  cocked  him,  whipped 
him  up  to  the  side  uv  my  face,  drawed  a 
bead  right  between  the  eyes,  let  him  hev  it 
jist  as  he  commenced  springin'  on  me.  He 
fell  at  my  feet,  and  died  monstrous  hard, 
like  he  had  a  thousand  lives,  slappin'  his 
tail  on  the  ground ;  you  mout  a  hearn  him 
three  hundred  and  fifty  yards. 

"Thinkin'  there  mout  be  some  more  uv 
the  same  stock  in  them  thar  woods,  I  nuver 
tuck  time  to  ondress  him,  which  his  skin 
would  a  bin  wuth  right  smart  uv  ammerni- 
tion.  I  gathered  up  my  skins,  and  moseyed 
fur  home." 


UNCLE    DAVY    LANE.  77 

Uncle  Davy  must  have  had  the  organ  of 
"  destructiveness"  pretty  fully  developed, 
for  fowls,  as  well  as  "animils"  and  "sar- 
punts,"  were  "smashed  up"  by  him,  as  may 
be  gathered  from 

THE  TURKEY  HUNT. 

"Now  I  got  mighty  tired  livin'  on  old 
buck  meat — nairly  as  sick  uv  it  as  the  chil- 
lun  of  Israel  was  in  the  willerness  livin*'  on 
partridges  and  manna,  which  my  teeth  was 
most  wore  down  to  the  gums  eatin'  it ;  so  I 
thort  I'd  sweeten  my  mouf  a  little  on  turkey 
meat.  So  I  piked  off  to  Nettle's  Knob,* 
knowin'  as  how  thar  was  a  slambangin"' 
chance  uv  'um  in  that  mounting.  I  seen 
hundereds  uv  old  bucks  as  I  moseyed  on, 
but,  pshaAv !  I  told  uvry  rascal  on  'um  to 
git  out'n  the  way,  fur  when  I  went  a-turkey- 
in'  I  didn't  go  a-buckin' ;  so  they  didn't 
tempt  me  any  more — fur  sure  they  didn't. 

"Now  soon  as  I  got  nairly  to  the  top  uv 
the  knob,  on  the  south  side,  I  seen  a  master 

*  A  beautiful  knob  near  the  foot  of  the  Blue  Ridge,  not  far  ^ 
from  the  "  Flour  Gap,"  now  "  Pipher's  Gap."  The  line  be-  / 
tween  Virginia  and  North  Carolina  crossed  it.  !> 


78  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

gang  uv  turkeys  feedin'  along  on  beggar's 
lice,  etc.,  mighty  busy,  comin'  right  to'ads 
me.  I  hid  myself  right  behind  an  old  chest- 
nut log,  sly  as  a  wild-cat.  Thar  was  'bout 
sixty  on  'um — a  right  nice  gang.  I  soon 
seen  which  were  the  grandmamma  uv  the 
whole  possercomitattus,  and  I  detarmined  to 
smash  her  fust.  I  lammed  away,  and  down 
she  fell  to  flutterin',  and  her  feet  clatterin' 
away  like  a  pack  uv  fool  boys  and  gals 
a-dancin\  The  childering  and  grandchilder- 
ing  all  run  up  to  see  what  were  the  matter, 
hollerin'  loud  as  they  could,  most  splittin' 
their  throats,  '  coot !   coot !   coot ! ' 

"Afore  she  was  done  a-flutterin',  I  lam- 
med down  another  old  hen ;  the  rest  run  up, 
and  the  same  coot !  coot !  tuck  place.  I  kep' 
lammin'  'um  down  fast  as  I  could,  which 
was  mighty  fast,  till  the  whole  woods  was 
alive  with  flutterin'  and  hollerin'  coot !  coot ! 
Soon  as  I  got  about  forty  on  'um,  I  quit 
burnin'  powder ;  besides,  old  Bucksmasher 
had  got  so  hot  I  were  afraid  to  put  powder 
down  him.  I  went  up  to  whar  they  was, 
and,  my  stars  !  what  a  pile  on  'um  !  I  could 
a  killed  the  last  one  on  'um,  fur  I  had  to 


UNCLE    DAVY    LANE.  79 

shoo  'um  off.  I  went  home  fur  the  boys 
and  the  little  waggin,  and  for  sure  we  had 
good  livin'  fur  a  week  on  baked  and  hashed 
turkey,  which  isn't  bad  eatin'  any  time,  it 
am  t. 

The  transition  from  one  fowl  story  to  an- 
other was  quite  easy  and  natural  to  Uncle 
Davy.  Thus  he  passed  with  great  facility 
from  the  "turkey  smashin'  "  to 

THE  PIGEON-KOOST. 

' '  Now,  do  ye  see,  a  man  will  git  tired  out 
on  one  kind  o'  meat,  I  don't  care  a  drot  what 
it  is  ('ceptin'  Johnson  Snow,  who  nuver  gits 
tired  o'  hog's  guliicks  and  turnup  greens). 
So  I  got  tireder  of  them  thar  turkeys,  which 
thar  was  so  many,  than  I  uver  did  uv  old 
buck  meat.  I  hearn  uv  a  mighty  pigeon- 
roost  down  in  the  Little  Mountings,*  so  I 
'tarmined  to  make  a  smash  uv  some  uv  'um, 
to  hev  a  variety  uv  all  sorts  o'  meat.  I  had 
got  to  turnin'  up  my  nose  whenuver  Molly 
sot  turkey  on  the  table,  which  I  hated  to  do, 
fur  she's  a  mighty  kind  critter. 

*  A  range  of  mountains  by  that  name,  an  offshoot  from  the 
Blue  Ridge,  in  the  "  Hollows  of  the  Yadkin." 


80  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

"  So  I  jist  fixed  up  old  Tower,*  and  filled 
my  sliot-bag  chug  full  uv  drap-sliot,  mounted 
old  Nip,f  and  moseyed  off  fur  the  pigeon- 
roost.  I  'ruv  thar  'bout  two  hours  by  the 
sun,  and  frum  that  blessed  hour  till  chock 
dark  the  heavens  was  dark  with  'um  comin' 
inter  the  roost.  It  is  unconceivable  to  tell 
the  number  on  ""um,  which  it  were  so  great. 
Bein'  a  man  that  has  a  character  fur  truth,  I 
won't  say  how  many  there  was.  Thar  was 
a  mighty  heap  uv  saplins  fur  'um  to  roost 
in,  which  they  would  allers  light  on  the  big- 
gest trees  fust,  then  pitch  down  on  the  little 
uns  ter  roost. 

"Now  jist  at  dark  I  thort  I'd  commence 
smashin'  'um ;  so  I  hitched  old  Nip  to  the 
limb  uv  a  tree  with  a  monstrous  strong  bri- 
dle— a  good  hitchin'  j)lace,  I  thort.  I  com- 
menced blazin'  away  at  the  pigeons  like  thun- 
der and  lightnin' ;  which  they'd  light  on  big 
trees  thick  as  bees,  bend  the  trees  to  the  yeth 
like  they'd  been  lead.  Uvry  pop  I'd  spill 
about  a  pint  uv  drap-shot  at  'um,  throwed 
at  'um  by  Thompson's  powder,  which  made 

*  The  name  of  his  musket. 
t  The  name  of  his  horse. 


THE    PKJKON-ROORT. 


UNCLE    DAVY    LANE.  §3 

a  drefful  smash  among  'um.  By  hokey !  I 
shot  so  fast,  and  so  long,  and  so  often,  I  het 
old  Tower  so  hot  that  I  shot  six  inches  off 
uv  the  muzzle  uv  the  old  slut.  I  seen  it 
were  no  use  to  shoot  the  old  critter  clean 
away,  which  I  mout  have  some  use  fur  agin ; 
so  I  jist  quit  burnin'  powder  and  flingin"' 
shot  arter  I'd  killed  'bout  a  thousand  on 
'um,  fur  sure. 

"Arter  I'd  picked  up  as  many  on  'um 
as  my  wallets  would  hold,  I  looked  fur  old 
Nip  right  smack  whar  I'd  hitched  him,  but 
he  were,  like  King  Saul's  asses,  nowhar  to 
be  found.  I  looked  a  consid'able  spell  next 
to  the  yeth,  but,  bless  you,  honey !  I  mout 
as  well  a  sarched  fur  a  needle  in  a  haystack. 
At  last  I  looked  up  inter  a  tree  'bout  forty 
foot  high,  and  thar  he  were  swingin'  to  a 
limb,  danglin'  'bout  'tween  the  heavens  and 
the  yeth  like  a  rabbit  on  a  snare-pole.  I 
could  hardly  keep  from  burstin'  open  laugh- 
in'  at  the  odd  fix  the  old  critter  were  in. 
The  way  he  whickered  were  a  fact,  when  I 
spoke  to  him — wusser  nur  ef  I'd  a  had  a 
stack  uv  fodder  fur  him  ur  a  corn-crib  to  put 
him  in." 


84  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

"How  come  him  up  thar,  Uncle  Davy?'' 
said  Bill  Holder,  a  great  quiz. 

"Why,  I  hitched  him  to  the  limb  uv  a  big 
tree  bent  to  the  yeth  with  pigeons,  you  num- 
skull, and  when  they  riz  the  tree  went  up, 
and  old  Nip  with  it,  fur  sure." 

"But  how  did  you  get  him  down?''  said 
Bill,  again. 

"That's  nuther  here  nor  thar;  I  got  him 
down,  and  that's  'nuff  fur  sich  pukes  as  you 
ter  know.  Soon  as  I  got  him  down  I  piked 
fur  home  with  my  pigeons,  and  we  made 
uvry  pan  and  pot  stink  with  'um  fur  one 
whet,  and  they  made  us  all  as  sassy  as  a  Tar 
River  feller  when  he  gits  his  belly  full  uv 
fresh  herrin'." 

BIG  PEACH-EATING. 

"These  is  the  oncommonest  biggest  plum 
peaches  I  uver  seen  sense  my  peepers  looked 
on  daylight, "  said  Uncle  Frost  Snow,  in  the 
presence  of  Uncle  Davy  Lane,  while  a  party 
were  making  a  desperate  havoc  of  some  very 
fine  peaches.  "They  is  'most  as  good  as  I 
use'  to  eat  in  ole  Albermarle,  Fudginny. 
While  I  lived  thar  I  eat  a  bushel  on  jist  sich 


UNCLE    DAVY    LANE.  85 

peaches  at  one  "eatin'."  This  was  said  to 
draw  out  a  story  from  our  hero.  Uncle 
Frost  was  good  at  that. 

"Pshaw!  fidgittyfudge ! "  said  Uncle 
Davy ;  "that's  nothin'  to  a  bait  I  once  tuck 
in  ole  Pitsulvany,  Virginny.  I  and  Uncle 
John  Lane  went  into  his  orchard  one  day, 
and  thar  was  tAvo  grate  big  plum  peach-trees 
so  full  that  the  limbs  lay  on  the  ground  all 
round. 

"'Dave,'  said  Uncle  John,  'do  ye  see 
them  big  peaches  thar?  I  can  beat  you 
eatin'  'um  so  fur  that  you  won't  know  yer- 
self.' 

•'  'Not  so  fast.  Uncle  John,'  says  I. 
'  I'll  bet  you  ten  buckskins, '  says  he. 

•'  'Done,  by  Jeeminny!'  says  I. 

•'  'Take  yer  choice  uv  the  trees,'  says  he. 
Here's  at  you !  this  one, '  says  I. 

"And  at  it  we  went,  like  Sampson  killin' 
the  Philistines,  with  our  butcher-knives, 
commencin'  at  'bout  twelve  ur  clock,  and 
moseyed  into  'um  till  'most  night. 

"  'How  do  ye  come  on,  Dave?'  said  Un- 
cle John. 

"'Fust-rate,'    says   I — 'jist    gittin'   my 


36  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

hand  in.  How  do  you  navigate,  Uncle 
Jolin?'  says  I. 

"  'I  gin  up,'  says  he.  'My  craw's  full,' 
says  he. 

"I  looked,  and,  Jehu  Nimshi!  ef  we 
hadn't  eat  till  all  the  limbs  on  his  tree  had 
riz  from  the  yeth  two  foot,  and  mine  had  riz 
three  foot.  The  peach-stones  lay  in  two 
piles,  and  they  looked  fur  all  the  world  like 
two  Injun  mounds — mine  a  nation  sight  the 
biggest. " 

"Haw!  haw!  haw!"  laughed  Uncle 
Frost ;   "  that  takes  the  rag  off  uv  the  bush. " 

SOME  APPLE-EATING. 

"I'm  danged,"  said  Dick  Snow,  "ef  I 
can't  beat  any  man  in  this  crowd  eatin'  ap- 
ples." 

"How  many  can  you  eat,  yearlin'?"  said 
Uncle  Davy.  "I'm  a  snorter  in  that  line, 
sartin. " 

"Don't  know  adzackly;  a  half  a  bushel, 
I  s'pose, "  said  Dick. 

"Bah!  that's  nothin'.  No  more'n  a  bar 
to  an  elephant.  That  same  Uncle  John 
Lane  which  I  won  the  buckskins  from,  eat- 


UNCLE    DAVY    LANE.  87 

in'  peaches,  not  satisfied  with  one  lickin\  tuck 
me  into  his  apple  orchard,  and,  '  Dave, '  says 
he,  '  do  you  see  yon  two  big  leathercoat  ap- 
ple-trees T 

"  '  Yes, '  says  I ;   '  and  what  uv  that  T 

"  'You  see,'  says  he,  'they're  mighty  full, 
with  thar  limbs  lyin'  on  the  yeth  T  says  he. 

"  'Yes,'  says  I;  'and  what  does  all  that 
signify  ?  Don't  be  beatin'  the  bush  so  long. 
Come  out!  Be  a  man,  and  tell  me  what 
you're  arter,'  says  I. 

'"I  want  to  win  them  thar  buckskins  back 
agin,'  says  Uncle  John. 

"  '  Can't  do  it,'  says  I. 

"  'Which  tree  will  you  take?'  says  he. 

"  'This  bully  un,'  says  I. 

"  '  Bad  choice, '  says  he ;  '  but  I'll  beat  you 
the  easier,'  says  he. 

"So  we  moseyed  into  'um  yearly  in  the 
mornin',  and  'bout  twelve  o'clock  he  called 
fur  the  calf-rope.  I'd  beat^him  all  holler. 
Uncle  John  were  swelled  out  like  a  hoss 
with  the  colic,  while  I  looked  as  trim  as  a 
grayhound.  We  looked,  and  the  limbs  uv 
my  tree  had  riz  from  the  yeth  full  four  foot, 
and  his'n  three  foot.     Thar  was  apple-peel- 


33  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

in's  and  cores  enough  under  them  thar  trees 
to  a  fed  five  dozen  hogs,  sartin." 

"I'm  danged,"  said  Dick  Snow,  "ef  that 
don't  take  the  huckleberry  off  of  my  'sim- 
mon." 

THE  TAPE-WOEM. 

(  Patent  medicines  go  every  where ;  so  do 
;  the  almanacs  of  the  inventors  of  such  medi- 
cines. Soon  after  Dr.  Jayne  commenced 
publishing  his  almanacs,  one  of  them  got 
into  the  Fisher's  Kiver  region.  It  was  quite 
a  wonder.  It  was  as  great  a  show  as  the 
elephant.  Some  one  showed  Uncle  Davy 
the  picture  of  the  tape-worm,  and  read  the 
account  of  it.  He  was  determined  not  to  be 
outdone,  and  held  forth  as  follows : 

"Fiddlesticks  and  Irish  'taters !  For  to 
think  that  a  man  of  larnin',  like  Dr.  Jaynes, 
should  prent  sich  a  little  flea-bitten  story  as 
that!  He  sartinly  nuver  seen  any  crape- 
wurrums." 

"  Tcq^e-tvorms,  Uncle  Davy,"  said  one. 
"Nuver   mind,  and    save   your  breath," 
said  he,  very  emphatically ;    "I  know  what 
I'm  explanigatin'  about.     I  say  Dr.  Jaynes 


UNCLE    DAVY    LANE.  89 

were  mighty  pushed  fur  a  wurrum  story  to 
prent  sich  a  little  baby  story  as  that  you 
have  jist  norated  frum  his  book.  If  he'd  a 
called  on  me,  I'd  a  gi'n  him  one  vv^hat  was 
wuth  prentin'." 

"Let's  have  it,  Uncle  Davy,"  said  several 
voices. 

"I'm  a  great  mind  not  to  tell  it  here  by 
the  side  uv  this  poor  little  thing  uv  Dr. 
Jayneses.  It  makes  me  rantankerous  mad 
to  hear  sich  little  stuff,  it  does.  But  here's 
at  you,  as  you  look  like  you'd  die  ef  yoq 
don't  hear  it. 

"Where  I  cum  from,  in  ole  Pitsulvany, 
Virginny,  thar  lived  a  strange-lookin'  critter 
by  the  name  uv  Sallie  Pettigrew.     I  sha'n't 
try  to  describe  her,  for  it  is  onpossible.     She 
were  a  sight,  sure.     She  looked  more  like  a  ( 
bar'l  on  stilts  than  any  thing  I  can  think  on.   / 
She  could  eat  as  much  meat  sometimes  as  ^ 
five  dogs,  and  soon  arter  eatin'  it  could  drink  S 
as  much  water  as  a  thirsty  yoke  uv  oxen, 
sartin'.     You  needn't  be  winkin'  and  blink- 
in'  thar ;  truth,  uvry  word  uv  it.     She  was 
monstrous  fond  uv  fish,  which  it  was   on- 
possible  almost  to  git  anuff  fur  her  to  make 


90  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

a  meal  on.  And  then,  arter  eatin'  the  fish, 
she  would  drink  galluns  upon  galluns  uv 
water.  The  people  got  mighty  tired  uv  her 
eatin'  and  drinkin'  so  much,  and  thort  suthin 
must  be  the  matter.  They  bought  a  whole 
barl  uv  salt  herrin's ;  they  cooked  'um,  and 
she  gulluped  down  the  last  one  uv  'um. 
They  tied  her  fast,  so  that  she  couldn't  git 
to  water.  She  hollered  and  bawled  fur  wa- 
ter, and  seemed  like  gwine  inter  fits.  They 
brought  a  bowl  uv  water,  and  placed  it  close 
to  her  mouth,  not  close  enough  fur  her  to 
drink,  though.  They  belt  it  thar  fur  some 
time ;  at  last  they  seed  suthin  poke  its  head 
out'n  her  mouth,  tryin'  to  drink.  One  uv 
'um  run  and  got  the  shoe-pinchers  and  nab- 
bed it  by  the  head,  and  commenced  drawin' 
it  out.  He  drawed  and  drawed,  wusser  nur 
a  man  drawin'  jaw  teeth,  till  it  looked  like 
he  would  nuver  git  done  drawing  the  critter 
out.  At  last  he  got  done ;  and  sich  a  pile ! 
and  sich  a  tape-wurrum!  The  poor  'oman 
fainted  away,  and  we  like  to  a  nuver  a  fotch- 
ed  her  to.  But  when  she  did  cum  to,  Jehu 
Nimshi!  you  mout  a  hearn  her  a  shoutin' 
two  miles  and  a  half     We  detarmined  to 


UNCLE    DAVY    LANE.  91 

measure  tlie  critter.  We  tuck  it  up,  and  tuck 
it  out  n  doors,  druv  a  nail  through  its  head 
at  the  corner  uv  the  house,  then  stretched  it 
clean  round  the  house  where  we  started  from, 
which  the  house  was  thirty  foot  long  and 
eighteen  foot  wide,  makin'  the  wurrum  nine- 
ty foot  long.  I  tell  you,  boys.  Dr.  Jayneses 
tape-wurrum  were  nothin'  to  it." 

"Deng  it!  we'll  gin  it  up,"  said  Dick 
Snow. 

"You  mout  as  well,"  said  Uncle  Davy, 
"fur  it  were  a  whaler." 

I  promised  the  reader  one  more  hunting 
story  from  Uncle  Davy.  I  will  now  give 
it,  as  it  seems  to  have  been  the  cause  of  his 
reformation,  and  with  it  I  close  the  sketches 
of  our  hunting  hero.     Here  it  is : 

THE  BUCK-HOENED   SNAKE. 

"  I  piked  out  one  day,"  said  Uncle  Davy, 
"in  sarch  uv  old  bucks,  but  they  was  mon- 
strous scace,  and  I  couldn't  find  none.  I 
got  'most  home,  and  thort  I  hated  to  return 
havin'  smashed  nothin' — didn't  like  to  be 
laughed  at.     Jist  then  an  old  sucklin'  doe 


92  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

got  right  smack  in  my  way.  I  leveled  old 
Bucksmaslier,  and  down  she  fell.  I  tuck 
her  home,  and,  meat  being  ruther  scace,  Ave 
eat  her  up  monstrous  quick. 

"  I  furgut  to  mention  that  it  was  on  Sun- 
day I  smashed  that  old  doe.  My  feelings 
sorter  hurt  me  fur  killin'  her  on  Sunday, 
and  frum  her  young  fawn  too,  poor  critter ! 
So  in  two  ur  three  days  arter,  I  thort  I'd  go 
out  and  git  the  fawn.  I  made  me  a  blate,* 
went  out  to  the  laurel  and  ivy  thicket  whar 
I'd  killed  the  doe,  blated,  and  the  fawn  an- 
swered me,  fur  it  thought  it  was  its  mam- 
my, poor  thing!  I  kep'  blatin'  away,  and 
uvry  time  I'd  blate  it  would  answer  me,  but 
it  cum  to  me  mighty  slow,  sartin.  I  got 
onpatient,  and  moseyed  a  little  to'ads  it,  and 
got  on  a  log  where  I  could  see  a  leetle,  which 
the  laurel  and  ivy  was  monstrous  thick.  I 
blated  agin,  which  it  answered  close  by.  I 
then  streeched  up  my  neck  liken  a  scared 
turkey,  lookin'  'mong  the  laurel  and  ivy,  and 
what  do  you  think  I  seen  V 

*  Hunters  split  a  stick,  put  a  leaf  into  it,  and  by  blowing  it 
can  imitate  the  bleating  of  deer  so  as  to  deceive  them.  They 
call  it  a  "blate." 


UNCLE    DAVY    LANE.  93 

"I  can  not  imagine,"  said  Taliaferro,  to 
whom  lie  was  relating  this  adventure. 

"Well,  I'll  tell  you.  Thar  lay  the  big- 
gest, oncommonest  black  snake  the  Lord 
uver  made,  sartin — which  he  has  made  a 
many  a  one — full  fifteen  foot  long,  with  a 
pair  of  rantankerous  big  buck's  horns,  big  as 
antelope's  horns.  It  fixed  its  tarnacious 
eyes  on  me,  but  afore  it  could  get  its  spell 
on  me  I  jumped  off  uv  that  log,  and  run  so 
fast  that  I  nuver  hev  nur  nuver  will  tell  any 
man — ^which  it  is  onpossible  to  tell  any  man 
— ^how  fast  I  did  pike  fur  home.  But  sartin 
it  is  that  the  runnin'  fi^om  the  coachwhip 
on  Hound  Hill  were  no  more  to  it  than  the 
runnin'  uv  a  snail  to  a  streak  uv  li'ghtnin'." 

"What  do  you  think  it  was?"  inquired 
Taliaferro. 

"I  jist  think  it  were  suthin'  sent  thar  to 
warn  me  'bout  huntin'  on  Sundays.  It 
Mated  jist  like  a  fawn,  and  I  thort  it  were 
the  fawn  I  were  arter ;  but,  Jehu  Nimshi ! 
it  were  no  more  a  fawn  than  I  am  a  fawn, 
sartin.  But  as  sure  as  old  Bucksmasher  is 
made  uv  iron,  and  is  the  best  gun  in  the 
world,  I've  nuver  hunted  on  Sunday  sense." 

s 


94  FISHER'S    RIVER   SKETCHES. 


v.— UNCLE  FROST  SNOW. 

The  man  who  once  saw  "Uncle  Frost 
Snow"  would  never  forget  him;  and,  of 
course,  being  raised  under  his  eye,  I  can  not 
forget  his  peculiar  features  and  eccentric  ac- 
tions. He  was  of  small  stature,  with  a  tri- 
une countenance — the  sad,  the  quizzical,  and 
the  cheerful,  the  cheerful  preponderating — 
ever  ready  for  a  loud,  hearty  laugh.  He 
would  laugh  all  over — ^his  countenance,  eyes, 
mouth,  and  body.  He  was  energetic  and 
eccentric  in  all  his  movements.  He  was 
fond  of  the  "tickler,"  but  not  to  excess; 
hated  a  "feller  what  would  git  down  dog 
drunk  under  yer  foot  on  the  yeth." 

He  was  raised  in  "  Albermarle,  Fudgin- 
ny,"  and  didn't  care  "a  durn  whether  he 
blonged  to  one  on  the  fust  famblys  uv  Fud- 
ginny  ur  not."  He  certainly  came  from  a 
section  where  rustic  literature  had  attained 
to  perfection ;  and  he  clung  to  the  language 


UNCLE    FROST    SNOW.  95 

of  his  section  and  of  his  youth  with  great 
tenacity,  as  the  following  incident  will  show, 
which  I  record  as  a  memento  of  my  regard 
for  his  memory. 

Uncle  Frost  lived  on  a  poor,  broken  piece 
of  land,  on  which  most  men  Avould  have 
starved,  but  by  uncommon  energy  and  good 
farming  he  managed  to  live  well.  He  rose 
early  and  worked  late,  obliged  to  do  so  or 
starve. 

He  had  a  favorite  negro  boy  named  An- 
derson, who  went  to  a  neighbor's  house  one 
night,  and  did  not  get  home  next  morning  till 
a  late  hour.  Uncle  Frost  was  up  early,  and 
went  out,  nervously  awaiting  Anderson's  ar- 
rival, jumping  about  like  a  mountain  snow- 
bird, hitching  up  his  "hipped  britches" — 
being  an  old-fashioned  man,  he  wouldn't 
wear  "gallusses, "  not  he.  ' ' Durned  ef  they'd 
strap  thar  backs  in  old  Fudginny,  nur  I 
ain't  a-gwine  to  do  it  nuther."  Presently 
Anderson  came,  and  what  took  place  he  re- 
ported to  his  neighbor  and  particular  friend, 
Mrs.  Easley,  thus : 

"You  see.  Miss  Yeasley,  folks  is  gittin' 
too  smart — too  big  fur  thar  britches.    Larn- 


96  FISHER'S   RIVER    SKETCHES. 

in'  and  big  quality  words  is  ruinin'  on  us 
fast.  Even  the  niggers  is  a-ketchin'  big 
quality  words.  My  Anderson  went  down 
t'other  night  ter  'Squire  Whitlock's  to  git  a 
par  o'  britches  cut  out,  and  got  home  late, 
he  did.  Anderson's  a  good  nigger,  and  I 
jest  Avanted  to  skeer  him.  I  runs  up  ter 
him  with  a  bully  hickory,  lookin'  bagonits 
at  him,  and,  says  I,  '  Anderson !  whar  you 
bin  T  says  I.  His  eyes  looked  like  a  skeered 
buck  rabbit. 

'"To  Mr.  Whitlock's,'  says  he. 

'"To  Mr.  Whitlock's!'  says  I;  'and 
what  fur  T  says  I. 

"  'To  get  a  pair  of  pantaloons  cut  out,' 
says  he,  mighty  qualityfied. 

" '  Pantaloons !  pantaloons ! ! '  says  I ; 
'who  larnt  you  to  call  'um  pantaloons?' 
says  I.  '  Gittin'  above  yer  master  ?  Talk- 
in'  like  the  Franklins  and  all  the  big  quality 
folks,  you  lamper-jawed,  cat-hamed  puke,' 
says  I.  'You  nuver  hearn  yer  master  call 
'um  any  thing  but  britches,  nur  you  sha'n't, ' 
says  I.  '  I'll  larn  you  to  puke  up  big  qual- 
ity words,  you  varmunt, '  says  I ;  and  I  lar- 
ruped him  well,  I  tell  you.     I  'clare.  Miss 


UNCLE    FROST   SNOW.  97 

Yeasley,  I  wouldn't  a  tetched  him  ef  he'd  a 
said  britches  ;  fur  I'm  'tarmined  my  niggers 
sha'n't  talk  this  big  quality  talk,  nur  shall 
my  chillun  talk  it,  ef  I  can  help  it ;  but  my 
son  John,  sense  he  married  inter  yer  fambly, 
he's  quit  talkin'  like  his  daddy — got  to  qual- 
ity in'  uv  it.  I'll  let  that  go,  but  my  niggers 
sha'n't  do  it,  Miss  Yeasley. " 
E 


98  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 


VI.— DICK  SNOW. 

Speaking  of  Uncle  Frost  Snow,  the  asso- 
ciation of  ideas  will  naturally  carry  the  mind 
to  his  family ;  and  of  all  the  members  of  his 
family,  which  was  quite  numerous,  I  have 
the  most  vivid  and  distinct  recollection  of 
his  son  Dick.  No  wonder,  when  we  were 
raised  together,  he  being  a  few  years  my  sen- 
ior. I  shall  not  have  occasion  to  ask  the 
reader's  pardon  for  giving  my  friend  Dick 
Snow  so  much  space  in  this  work,  for  he 
will  find  him,  upon  farther  acquaintance,  an 
"original  document" — will  be  pleased  with 
him  every  way.  I  shall  first  give  some  orig- 
inal anecdotes  illustrative  of  the  animus  of 
the  man,  and,  secondly,  relate  his  thrilling 
courtship. 

I  have  just  stated  that  Dick  Snow  was  a 
son  of  Uncle  Frost  Snow,  and  a  favorite  one 
too,  for  he  inherited  most  -of  the  looks  and 
eccentricities  of  his  father ;   and  as  to  the 


DICK    SNOW.  99 

vernacular  of  his  father,  no  Roman  Catholic 
ever  stuck  closer  to  his  creed  than  Dick,  be- 
sides a  considerable  addition  from  other 
sources.  The  fact  is,  Dick  had  a  smattering 
of  all  the  rustic  literature  of  the  land — a  fair 
representative  of  Fisher's  River  literature, 
overdoing  the  thing  a  little,  however.  Un- 
cle Frost  loved  Dick  much,  "because  he 
won't  git  above  his  daddy,  and  talks  like 
they  did  in  old  Albermarle,  Fudginny." 

As  to  size,  Dick  was  a  little  above  ordi- 
nary, but  well  made  and  finely  proportioned, 
with  muscles  clearly  and  fully  developed. 
He  was  a  little  stoop-shouldered,  and  moved 
quickly  and  with  great  ease.  His  face  was 
quite  paradoxical,  wearing  both  a  vinegar 
and  pleasant  appearance.  His  eyes  were 
black,  small,  and  restless,  indicating  quick 
perception,  particularly  of  the  ridiculous. 
His  nose  was  well  set,  indicative  of  decision 
of  character,  of  which  he  evidently  had  much. 
His  chin  testified  to  the  same,  and  so  did  his 
lips.  His  person  and  countenance  combined 
bespoke  his  honesty,  frankness,  bravery,  de- 
cision, and  mischievousness. 

But  this  must  suffice  for  description — a 


IQO  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

poor  one  too.  If  the  reader  could  see  the 
man,  he  Avould  agree  with  me.  I  will  now 
give  some 

CHAKACTERISTIC   ANECDOTES. 

When  Dick  was  married,  he  settled  on  a 
very  poor  farm,  on  which  no  other  man 
could  have  lived.  His  wife  Sallie  in  due 
time  gave  him  a  son,  and  as  soon  thereafter 
as  things  of  the  kind  are  ever  done,  she  pre- 
sented him  one  night  with  two  beautiful 
twin  sons.  In  the  morning,  some  time  be- 
fore daylight,  Dick  was  heard  rattling  his 
chains  and  gearing  his  horse.  His  attend- 
ant friends  were  surprised,  and  remon- 
strated. 

"Dick,  where  on  earth  are  you  going? 
What  are  you  going  to  do  V 

' '  I  m  g^vine  to  wurk — that's  what.  When 
the  fambly  is  'creasin'  so  fast,  I  must  'crease 
my  wurk,  by  jingo ! " 

This  was  said,  not  by  way  of  complaint, 
but  from  the  promptings  of  his  indomitable 
energy. 

People  in  that  country,  at  the  time   of 


DICK    SNOW.  IQl 

which  I  speak,  got  nearly  all  their  informa- 
tion by  inquiry.  They  did  not  take  the  pa- 
pers ;  the  sound  of  the  stage  bugle  never 
echoed  through  their  hills  and  mountains. 
If  a  man  went  twenty  miles  from  home,  he 
might  expect  on  his  return  to  be  quizzed  not 
a  little.  Dick  once  went  to  Rockford,  the 
seat  of  justice  for  Surry  County,  to  court, 
when  a  certain  "'Squire  Byrd"  was  to  be 
tried  for  murder.  Expectation  was  on  tip- 
toe. Dick  returned,  and  was  asked  the  news. 
He  replied: 

"Thar  warn't  no  trial;   'twas  put  off,  an' 
'Squire  :Byrd  has  gi'n  siscurity  for  his  ex- 
>  spearunce  at  the  next  court,  so  they  'least 
mm. 

Dick  had  a  pertinacious  way  of  abbrevi- 
ating nearly  all  his  words,  even  when  he 
knew  better.  He  was  a  man  of  fine  sense 
and  good  judgment,  but  he  wished  to  take 
"short  cuts,"  and  "talk  jest  like  he'd  bin 
larnt,"  and  was  too  energetic  to  take  time  to 
pronounce  whole  words.  Once  he  returned 
from  court,  and  was  giving  his  neighbors  the 
news  in  the  presence  of  his  wife,  who  was  a 


102  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES 

woman  of  good  learning  for  that  section,  and 
said  "sich  an'  sich"  men  were  '•'■'turned  to 
court." 

His  wife  was  amused  at  him,  and  said, 
"  Dick,  why  don't  you  call  that  word  right?" 

' '  Well,  ree-turned,  then,  ef  you  will  have 
it  the  long  way,"  replied  Dick.  "Some 
folks  are  allers  gwine  the  long  way,  but  that 
ain't  me.  I  gits  right  inter  it,  like  a  hom- 
minny-bird  (humming-bird)  inter  a  tech-me- 
not  flower. " 


I  remember  well  the  first  time  I  ever 
heard  of  domestic  cotton  cloth.  It  was  from 
my  friend  Dick  Snow  that  I  learned  that 
there  was  such  a  thing.  Dick  had  been  to 
Wauo-h's  store,  in  the  "Hollows"  of  the 
Yadkin,  and  upon  his  return  I  inquired  the 
news. 

"I'm  danged  ef  thar  ain't  some  uv  the 
cheapestest  mastiss  cloth  at  Waugh's  store 
on  top  of  the  yeth,  by  jingo ! " 

"What?"  said  I. 

"Mastiss  cloth,  dang  it!  on'y  twenty-five 
cents  a  yard." 

I  saw  it  was  useless  to  press  the  question, 


DICK    SNOW.  103 

as  far  as  Dick  was  concerned,  but  I  inquired 
of  my  father,  and  found  it  to  be  domestic 
cotton  cloth. 


Not  long  after  this,  Dick  came  where  I 
was  at  work.  "Dick,"  said  I,  "how  is 
your  health  V 

"Laus-a-day,  I'm  'most  dade." 

"Truly,"  said  I,  "your  face  is  quite  long. 
What  is  the  matter  V 

"I've  got  the  wust  discontary  that  uver  a 
poor  reflicted  critter  had.  It's  wearin'  me 
out  fast.     I'm  empty  as  a  barl." 

' '  What  is  it  ?"  I  inquired. 

"Discontary !  Dang  it !  can't  you  hear  ? 
I'll  pick  yer  ears  with  a  handspike  d'rect- 


Dick  was  a  good  farmer,  and  was  among 
the  first  to  get  any  new  plow  that  came 
along  and  promised  to  be  useful.  There 
came  into  the  neighborhood  a  valuable  plow 
called  the  Dagon  Cooter.  Dick,  determined 
to  have  one,  went  to  the  blacksmith,  Meredy 
Edmonds,  and  said, 

"Meredy,  I'm  come  to  git  you  to  make 
me  a  bully  plow." 


lOJ:  FISHER'S    RIVER   SKETCHES. 

"What  sort  of  a  plowf  asked  the  black- 
smith. 

"Dang  it!  I  furgit  the  name,  but  I 
b'leeve  it's  Caten  Dooden  or  Doodly  Dagon. 
It  makes  no  odds ;  you  know  what's  what — 
what  I  wants  jest  as  well  as  I  does." 


Dragoon  bridle-bits  used  to  be  in  fashion. 
Dick  had  never  used  a  pair,  but,  having  an 
unruly  horse,  he  concluded  he'd  try  him  with 
a  pair  of  dragoon  bits ;  but,  not  having  a  pair 
of  his  own,  he  went  to  a  neighbor  and  in- 
quired, 

"I'm  come  to  borryyer  dagon  bits." 

"What  is  it?"  asked  the  neighbor. 

"Dagon  bits!  Cuss  these  hard  names! 
My  mouf  was  nuver  made  to  'nounce  'um. 
Ding  such  big  quality  words." 


Game  of  every  kind  was  plentiful  in  that 
mountainous  country,  and  sometimes  hunters 
would  descend  from  big  game  down  to  rab- 
bit hunting.  Dr.  K.  Thompson  and  Dick 
took  a  rabbit  hunt  one  day,  and  when  the 
hunt  was  over  the  doctor  proposed  to  divide 
the  game  with  Dick,  to  which  he  responded 
emphatically, 


DICK    SNOW.  |^Q5 

"Don't  want  'um.      I  doesn't  like  rabbit 
meat ;  it  tastes  too  clanged  rabbity. " 


Dick  was  a  man  of  respectability,  and  had 
a  wife  whom  he  and  every  body  else  consid- 
ered number  one.  The  best  of  company, 
even  the  "quality,"  visited  his  house.  The 
Misses  Franklin,  daughters  of  Meshech 
Franklin,  "the  Congressman,"  went  to  a 
Methodist  quarterly  meeting  near  Dick's 
residence,  called  on,  and  staid  all  night  with 
him.  Dick  was  unacquainted  with  "quality 
ways,"  and  w^hen  the  ladies  retired  to  bed 
up  stairs,  they  bade  the  family  "good-night." 
He  didn't  know  what  it  meant,  and  it  wor- 
ried him  worse  than  the  nightmare.  At  last 
he  concluded  it  was  some  "rig"  the  young 
ladies  were  running  on  him,  and  he  resolved 
to  retrieve  what  he  had  lost,  for  he  was  a 
man  who  did  not  like  to  be  outdone.  So, 
early  next  morning,  he  rose,  built  his  fire, 
and  watched  the  stair-steps  until  he  heard 
the  ladies  coming  down.  He  then  ran  and 
hid  himself  near  the  foot  of  the  stairway. 
As  soon  as  they  landed  on  the  lower  floor, 

Dick  rushed  out  of  his  hiding-place,  scaring 
E  2 


106  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

the    misses    not    a   little,   and  bawled    out 
loudly, 

" Good-mornin"'  at  ye,  ladies!  I's  fast 
anuff  fur  you  this  time.  Now  I'll  quit  ye, 
as  we's  even.  You  got  me  last  night ;  Ts 
got  ye  this  mornin\'''' 


I  have  never  seen  a  place  yet  where  poli- 
tics had  not  reached.  In  that  secluded  spot 
where  Dame  Fashion  has  seldom  found  her 
way,  or  has  -met  with  such  a  cold  reception 
that  she  does  not  care  to  visit  it,  even  there 
the  demon  Politics  is  open-mouthed.  Dick 
was  therefore  compelled  to  take  sides.  He 
became  a  warm  "Dimicrat- — a  mortaUack- 
son  man.*" 

During  the  Revolution  there  were  many 
Tories  in  that  region,  and  their  descendants 
were  derided  and  despised  by  the  descend- 
ants of  the  Whigs.  Dick  entered  the  list  in 
controversy  with  the  grandson  of  a  Tory, 

who  was  a  Whig  in  politics.    Sam  J was 

a  little  too  hard  for  Dick  in  discussion,  and 
Dick  turned  upon  him  with  a  "jodarter," 
and  smote  him  thus : 

"  Sam,  you's  chock  full  uv  yer  grandaddyls 


•  GOOT)-MORNIN',    LABIES.' 


DICK    SNOW.  log 

blood.  You's  got  his  old  rade  coat  he  wore 
in  the  Revolution  now  put  away  in  yer  chist. 
Next  thing  youll  be  wearin'  on  it ;  the  first 
good  chance  you  git,  youll  be  rippin',  an' 
shinin',  an'  sailin'  about  in  it.  I  m  danged 
ef  I  don't  gin  you  a  dollar  to  see  it  any  day." 


Speaking  of  politics  reminds  me  of  one 
more  anecdote  connected  therewith.  It  was 
customary  for  "candidites"  in  olden  times 
to  treat  with  liquor ;  but  after  a  while  the 
temperance*  reformation  reached  Fisher's 
River,  mainly  through  the  instrumentality 
of  Solomon  Graves,  Esq.,  of  Mount  Airy, 
and  "  polititioners"  in  treating  had  to 
change  their  "tacktucks"  a  little.  Mack- 
erel were  used  by  some  candidates  instead  of 
Johnson  Snow's  "  knock-'em-stifi*. " 

"Mackerel!  why,  didn't  every  body  have 
mackerel  V 

Not  so  fast,  captious  reader.  Close  un- 
der the  Blue  Ridge  w^e  had  nothing  but 
chubs,  hornyheads,  pikes,  white  suckers,  sun- 
perch,  eels,  speckled  trout,  and  a  few  other 

*  The  first  time  I  ever  heard  of  temperance  societies  in  that 
section,  the  people  called  them  "  temple  societies." 


110  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES 

small  varieties  of  the  finny  tribes.  Mack- 
erel was  unknown  when  I  left  in  1829. 

Now  it  came  to  pass  that  a  candidate  for 
the  suffrages  of  the  sovereigns  of  Fisher's 
Kiver,  by  the  name  of  Reeves,  procured  a 
barrel  of  mackerel  from  Fayetteville,  Wil- 
mington, or  somewhere  else,  at  a  great  deal 
of  expense,  brought  them  into  Surry,  and  a 
few  of  them  into  Dick's  neighborhood,  and 
resolved  to  have  a  mackerel  supper  at  Wylie 
Franklin's.  Dick  was  invited.  Said  the 
person  inviting  him,  "Mr.  Reeves  sends  his 
compliments,  and  wishes  you  to  come  over 
this  evening  to  Mr.  Franklin's,  and  take 
some  mackerel  with  him." 

"  Ah !  dang  Reeves, "  said  Dick.  ' '  That's 
jest  like  him.  I  knows  him  jest  as  well  as 
the  man  that  made  him.  He  knowed  I 
couldn't  read  his  dinged  newspapers  and 
pamphlets"  (Dick  couldn't  read);  "but  I'll 
go  and  hear  him  read  'um ;  I  loves  to  hear 
'um  read ;  I  loves  good  readin'." 

Imagine  Dick's  surprise  when  he  went 
and  found  his  newsj^apers  and  pamphlets 
were  converted  into  fish. 


DICK    SNOW.  1]^!^ 

Dick  was  a  rough  hand  to  joke  people. 
It  w^as  a  law  in  that  region,  enacted  by  com- 
mon consent,  that  no  one  was  to  get  angry 
at  a  joke,  however  rough  it  might  be.  Dick 
observed  M.  H.,  a  married  man,  walking 
with  a  young  lady,  and  conversing  pretty 
fluently,  and,  as  he  thought,  a  little  too 
amorously,  in  a  crowd.  He  thought  it  a 
good  chance,  and  blurted  out  loudly, 

"  Hello w,  M !   Ill  tell  your  wife,  sir. 

I'm  danged  ef  you  hain't  sot  your  coulter 
too  deep  to  make  a  good  craj).  You  can't 
fool  this  chile.     I'se  cut  my  eye  teeth  long 


Dick  had  lost  none  of  his  joking  propen- 
sities when  I  visited  that  section  in  1857. 
I  wore  a  long  beard — the  whole  beard — and 
was  a  perfect  wonder  to  the  people.  For, 
as  stated.  Fashion  either  neglects  that  place 
wholly,  or  makes  it  the  last  place  she  visits. 
Upon  my  arrival,  I  found  that  Dame  Fash- 
ion had  just  introduced  in  full  vogue  sacks 
and  joseys  among  the  young  ladies  ;  and  as 
to  a  full-grown  beard,  except  among  the 
"  Dunkards,"  it  was  "  onhearn  on."    I  made 


112  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

my  defense  one  day  in  a  large  crowd,  and 
when  I  was  through  Dick  came  to  my  relief 
as  follows : 

"Gintlemen,  I  knows  what  Hardy  wears 
his  beard  for.  You  doesn't  know  him  well 
as  I  does.  I  was  raised  wiz  him  ;  I  knows 
him  adzackly.  You  see,  gintlemen,  wimin's 
mighty  'ticin''  things  to  men,  and  men''s 
mighty  'ticin'  things  to  wimin.  Hardy  is 
out  a  grate  deal  from  home,  and  he  doesn't 
want  to  'tice  the  wimin,  nur  he  don't  want 
the  wimin  to  'tice  him ;  so  he's  put  on  that 
great  big,  ugly  beard,  that  there  mayn't  be 
any  'ticement  neither  way." 

The  foregoing  anecdotes  of  Dick  Snow  are 
a  few  only  of  the  many  now  in  my  memory. 
They  have  been  selected  at  random,  or  near- 
ly so.  If  all  that  are  remembered  were 
written,  they  would  fill  a  large  volume  ;  but 
space  allows  no  more,  and  I  will  now  give 
the  reader  his 

COUETSHIP. 

The  word  "courtship"  reminds  one  of 
courting  and  of  courting  days,  probably  long 


DICK    SNOW.  113 

past.  So  back  I  go  to  old  Surry,  to  the 
days  of  my  boyhood.  Where  is  the  boy 
who  has  entered  his  teens  who  has  not  "tried 
his  hand''  at  courting?  His  first  essays  in 
the  business  are  quite  laughable.  The  first 
time  I  ever  attempted  to  court  a  girl,  being 
quite  bashfiil,  we  went  into  the  cook-house, 
and  while  I  was  very  awkwardly  prefacing 
matters,  a  shrill  tenor  voice  was  heard  from 
the  "big  house,"  which,  set  to  music,  runs 
thus : 

"Oh,  Poll,  mammy  says  you  must  git 
dinner ;  and  she  says  you  must  fry  a  piece 
o'  meat  apiece,  and  two  for  daddy." 

Thinking  meat  was  a  little  scarce,  and  be- 
ing very  bashful  too,  I  unceremoniously  left. 

Courting  was  done  then  and  there  on  an 
original  scale,  differing  from  that  adopted 
in  most  other  places  on  this  green  earth  — 
very  different  from  nowadays  courting  ev- 
ery where.  Being  a  peculiar  place,  it  had 
its  own  etiquette. 

Most  of  the  people  walked  to  "meetin'." 
Boys  and  "gals,"  the  boys  mostly  bare- 
footed, would  get  together  as  by  magic,  and 
walk  "  side-and-side, "  the  "gals"  with  their 


1X4  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

beautiful  striped  cotton  home-made  dresses 
on,  with  their  shoes  in  their  "redicules"  till 
they  got  in  sight  of  the  "meetin'-house." 
They  would  then  halt,  go  aside  and  put  on 
their  shoes,  while  their  barefooted  gallants, 
with  tow  and  cotton  shirts  and  "britches," 
stood  in  the  road  till  their  return.  Reader, 
don't  be  incredulous  ;  every  word  of  it  true. 
And  those  were  happy,  happy  days.  I  love 
them  because  I  was  an  actor  in  such  primi- 
tive scenes  of  life. 

There  were  endless  ways  of  getting  the 
' '  young  folks"  together.  In  the  spring  there 
would  be  "grubbings"  and  "log-rollings;" 
in  summer,  "reapings ;"  and  in  the  fall, 
"  corn-shuckings. "  On  all  such  occasions 
the  girls  would  always  manage  to  have  "quilt- 
ings"  and  "sewings."  As  soon  as  night 
came,  or  the  work  was  done,  the  fiddle  sound- 
ed, and  they  danced  and  courted  all  night. 
Christmas  was  a  great  festival.  They  felt 
grateful  to  and  blessed  the  man  that  invent- 
ed it.  With  the  "young  uns"  it  was  a  gen- 
eration from  one  Christmas  to  another.  For 
a  whole  week  they  would  dance  from  house 
to  house  day  and  night,  "sparkin'"  going 


DICK    SNOW.  11^ 

on  at  a  "big  lick"  all  the  time.  The  old- 
fashioned  "seven-handed  reel"  was  the  only 
go.  A  brainless,  barrel-headed  dancing-mas- 
ter (for  all  are  such)  was  a  perfect  lion ;  a 
fiddler  was  next  in  repute ;  and  the  parson 
was  "nowhar." 

For  one  young  man  to  get  the  advantage 
of  another  in  "sparkin'"  was  considered 
quite  lawful  and  shrewd,  and  it  was  called 
"  cuttin'  out."  No  duels  were  fought  on  ac- 
count of  it.  It  was  a  law  in  their  court- 
ships. The  young  ladies  admired  it ;  hence 
they  would  make  no  engagements  with  young 
men  to  be  partners  with  them  for  a  time — 
not  even  to  accompany  them  to  "meetin''" 
and  back  to  their  homes.  No ;  the  young 
misses  loved  to  see  the  young  "sparkers" 
exercise  their  ingenuity  in  the  game  of 
"catch  and  keep."  They  might  start  coup- 
led, but  before  they  arrived  at  their  destina- 
tion they  would  probably  "change  pardners" 
often.  All  right,  for  it  has  been  shrewdly 
done,  and  has  afforded  merriment  for  the 
crowd  and  matter  for  conversation.  The 
same  was  true  of  thefeiv  who  rode  on  horse- 
back ;  for  I  have  been  speaking  of  the  foot 


116  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

crowd.  Some  fine  feats  of  horsemanship, 
worthy  of  a  Murat  or  a  Cossack,  have  been 
performed  in  that  region  by  way  of  "  cuttin' 
out." 

But  I  have  wandered,  yet  not  uninten- 
tionally, for  it  is  necessary  and  prefatory  to 
Dick  Snow's  courtship. 

Now  it  came  to  pass,  in  the  course  of  hu- 
man events,  that  Dick  fell  in  love  Avith  Sally 
Tucker,  youngest  daughter  of  William  and 
Molly  Tucker,  a  very  respectable  family. 
"Uncle  Billy  Tucker"  being  "well  off"  for 
that  country,  and  Sally  being  an  admirable 
girl,  Dick  had  quite  a  time  of  it,  owing  to 
her  many  suitors.  Algias  Cave  was  Dick's 
principal  opponent,  and  the  struggle  was 
long,  hard,  and  doubtful.  Nothing  but 
Dick's  energy  and  perseverance,  and  "git- 
tin'  on  the  blind  side  o'  the  old  folks, "  caused 
him  to  succeed.  Many  a  man  would  have 
"gi'n  it  up  as  a  lost  ball;"  but  not  so  with 
Dick ;  ' ' fur, "  said  he,  "I  nuver  gins  a  thing 
up  as  long  as  there's  a  pea  in  the  gourd." 

But  I  must  let  Dick  tell  his  own  court- 
ship. 

"The  fust  time  1  uver  seen  Sally,"  said 


DICK    SNOW."  117 

Dick,  "  I  sot  my  Sections  on  her  right  smack 
like  a  leech  on  to  a  fish,  so  that  I'd  a  gi  n 
my  life  fur  her.  But  I  was  mighty  dry  a 
lettin'  her  know  how  I  was  a-takin'  on.  I 
knowed  the  boys  was  a-takin'  on  and  shinin' 
around  her,  'tickeler  Caldwell  Shipp  and 
'Gius  Cave — 'Gius  the  wust.  I  knowed  ef 
I  didn't  spark  her  soon  my  cake  was  dough. 
I  made  a  'skuse  to  Sally  to  go  wim  me  inter 
the  garden  to  show  me  the  hollyhawks  and 
all  the  purty  flowers.  She  went  wim  me, 
and  kept  showin'  me  this,  that,  and  t'other 
cussed  thing,  which  I  keered  no  more  for  'um 
than  a  hog  does  fur  holiday.  My  heart 
was  a-spinnin'  round  like  a  top,  and  my 
breath  short  as  pie-crust,  and  my  body  shak- 
in'  like  a  dog  with  the  ager.  Last  I  made 
out  to  ax  Sally  ef  she'd  have  me.  She  said 
she'd  'sider  on  it  a  while.  Now  I'd  ruther 
hearn  any  thing  else.  I  didn't  like  that  'sid- 
erin'  a  bit,  fur  I  knowed  'Gius  had  his  eye 
on  her  like  a  blue-tailed  hawk  watchin'  a 
chicken  ;  but  I  helt  a  stiiF  upper  lip  ;  let  on 
like  I  didn't  care  a  dried-apple  durn,  and 
left. 

"I  staid  away  fur  some  time,  and  'Gius 


118  FISHER'S   RIVER    SKETCHES. 

was  all  the  time  knittin'  away.  I  bleeved 
I  could  onravel  all  his  knittin'  when  I  got 
my  pegs  sot ;  yet  I  was  a  good  deal  con- 
sarned  about  it,  I  must  'fess.  Last  I  got  a 
hint  from  Sally,  as  I  tuck  it.  I  went  over 
and  onraveled  all  'Gius's  knitting  and  showed 
him  whar  Tony  hid  the  wadge.  Still  I  was 
sorter  'served,  all  to  make  Sally  bleeve  I 
wasn't  sich  anxious  arter  all.  Last  I  made 
a  'skuse  to  wuck  some  fur  the  old  man,  Sal- 
ly's daddy.  It  was  corn-gathering  time,  and, 
I  tell  you,  I  made  things  wake — wucked  all 
day,  wouldn't  stop  fur  dinner — to  show  my 
smartness. 

"  Sally  waited  on  me  at  supper,  and  I  'tar- 
mined  to  wuck  a  new  plan,  and  feel  uv  Sal- 
ly's pulse  in  a  new  way.  I  told  her  I  was 
a-gwine  to  court  a  sartin  gal,  widout  namin' 
her.  I  seen  it  wucked  well,  fur  she  didn't 
like  it.  I  sparked  her  a  little  that  night, 
and  told  her  I  was  a-gwine  wiz  her  to  meet- 
in'  next  Sunday. 

"We  went,  and  'bout  the  fust  man  I  seen 
was  'Gius.  I  seen  him  cuttin'  his  fox  eyes 
'bout  as  I  and  Sally  walked  up  to  the  meet- 
in'-house  door.     The  preachin'  didn't  do  me 


DICK    SNOW.  IIQ 

much  good  that  day,  sartin  as  a  turkle  fall- 
in'  off  "uv  a  log  into  a  mill-pond.  They 
mout  a  shouted  the  top  of  the  meetin'-house 
off,  and  I  wouldn't  a  hearn  a  word  on  it.  I 
was  all  the  time  doin'  my  own  knittin"',  and 
'siderin'  how  to  head  'Gius  gwine  home,  as  I 
seen  it  in  his  foxy  looks  that  he  'tended  to 
gin  me  a  clatter. 

"So  no  sooner  had  they  'nounced  the 
word  'amen'  than  I  got  Sally's  eye,  gin  her 
the  wink,  and  started  wiz  her.  I  cotch  our 
horses,  and  helped  Sally  on,  and  afore  I  could 
git  on  my  animil,  'Gius — pox  take  him!  — 
like  to  a  got  in  atween  us.  But  he  didn't 
cut  me  out  that  bout,  and  off  we  put,  'Gius 
close  arter  us.  At  last  we  cum  chug  up  to  a 
fence  that  had  no  draw-bars  nur  gate.  Thar 
was  'Gius  slinkin'  along  clost  behind  us.  I 
thought  I'd  be  fast  anuff  fur  him,  so  I  jumped 
down,  jerked  down  the  fence,  'tendin'  to  git 
mine  and  Sally's  bosses  over,  put  it  up,  and 
leave  'Gius  on  t'other  side.  But  no  sooner 
had  Sally's  boss  jumped  over  and  clared  the 
fence,  than  'Gius — confound  him! — jumped 
his  over  too,  afore  I  could  git  up  a  single 
rail.     I  put  up  the  fence  in  a  mighty  great 


120  FISHER'S   RIVER    SKETCHES. 

hurry,  and  was  sicli  anxious  that  I  put  it  up 
and  left  my  hoss  on  t'other  side.  The  fat 
was  all  in  the  fire,  and  I  caved  in.  Aginst 
I  pulled  down  the  fence  and  got  my  hoss 
over,  Sally  and  'Gius  was  away  yender. 
'T wasn't  long  afore  we  cum  to  another  fence, 
and  thar  I  slayed  'Gius,  and  I  rode  home 
wiz  Sally  arter  all  'Gius's  knittin'. 

"This  scrape  made  me  mighty  oneasy, 
and  I  'eluded  that  night  to  make  the  big 
war-talk  to  Sally,  hit  ur  miss.  So  I  yoked 
her,  and  'swaded  and  'swaded  her  all  night, 
till- jest  before  day  I  got  her  'sent  to  marry 
me.  When  I  got  her  'sent,  I  felt  like  I  could 
a  shouted  'most  as  loud  as  Passon  Beller  at 
a  Mathodiss  meetin' ;  but  I  belt  my  tongue. 

' '  Next  time  I  went  over  I  axed  fur  Sally. 
I  went  over  on  Saturday  night,  but  kep'  put- 
tin'  it  off  till  Sunday  night,  and  then  didn't 
ax  fur  her.  I  didn't  sleep  much  Sunday 
night,  for  sartin.  I  fixed  my  plan :  I'd  git 
up  afore  Tommy,  Sally's  brother,  soon  in 
the  mornin'  (Tommy  slep'  v\dz  me),  knowin' 
the  old  folks  was  yearly  risers,  and  ax  'um 
fur  her  as  soon  as  I  got  down  stairs.  But, 
bless  you,  mate !   I  wasn't  more'n  out'n  my 


DICK    SNOW.  121 

bade  afore  Tommy  was  up  too,  peart  as  a 
cricket.  I  went  down  stairs,  Tommy  a-fol- 
lerin'  along  arter  me.  Dang  him !  he  nuver 
got  up  so  soon  afore  in  all  his  life.  I  waited 
till  the  old  man  went  out  to  feed  his  hogs, 
and  I  axed  him.  Said  he,  '  Go  and  ax  the 
old  'omun.'  I  went,  which  I  was  in  sich  a 
sweat  to  git  home  to  work  that  I  couldn't 
wait  till  she  got  out'n  the  smoke-house. 
While  she  was  in  thar  cuttin'  meat,  I  axed 
her,  and  she  gin  her  'sent.  I  went  home 
tickled  to  death,  nearly,  to  see  how  I'd  slayed 
'Gius,  and  had  onraveled  all  his  knittin'. 

"  We  didn't  have  much  of  a  weddin',  'case 
as  how  the  old  man,  old  'omun,  and  all  the  gals, 
Sally  too,  was  sich  Mathodises  they  wouldn't ' 
'low  dancin',  and  uvry  thing  was  serious  as 
a  love-feast,  'most,  only  we  didn't  tell  our 
'spearances,  as  they  does  on  sich  'casions. 
The  fact  is,  I'd  been  whizzin'  round  all  my 
life,  and  had  no  'spearance  uv  'ligion  to  tell 
ef  I'd  been  axed. " 

GETTING  EELIGION. 

The  foregoing  are  a  few  only  of  the  many 

interesting   incidents   in  Dick's   courtship, 
F 


122  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

which  he  always  told  with  great  gusto.  But 
before  I  dismiss  him  he  must  tell  the  story 
of  his  attempt  to  "git  ligion." 

' '  Not  long  arter  I  was  married,  old  Mis- 
ter and  old  Miss  Tucker  'menced  'swadin  me 
to  git  ligion ;  as  I  had  a  fambly,  I  ought  to 
set  a  good  'zample  afore  'um,  and  hold  fam- 
bly prayer,  and  all  sich  good  Vice.  I  knowed 
it  would  please  them  and  Sally  too ;  and, 
knowin'  I  was  a  poor,  sinful  creetur,  I  'eluded 
I'd  try  the  'speriment.  So  there  cum  on  a 
quarterly  meetin'  at  the  old  man's,  and  I 
'eluded  that  was  the  time  to  make  my  Jack. 
I  went  on  Saturday,  wiz  my  face  tolluble 
long,  and  'eluded  I'd  make  a  good  start  at 
the  'ginnin'.  Nobody  knowed  what  was  in 
my  head,  more'n  dander,  till  Sunday.  When 
they  'vited  up  mourners  I  went  up,  and  you 
may  s'pose  there  was  some  racket  jist  then. 
They  all  tuck  on  mightily.  Besides  Sally's 
folks,  the  circus -rider  prayed  fur  me,  like 
he  was  beatin'  tan-bark  off  uv  trees  in  dade 
uv  winter.  They  beat  my  back  wusser  nur 
a  nigger  beatin'  hominy  in  a  mortar,  jist  like 
'ligion  could  be  beat  inter  a  man,  like  maul- 
in'  rails  out'n  locked  timber.     The  meetin' 


DICK    SNOW.  123 

broke  up,  and  I  tried  gittin'  ligion  a  whole 
week ;  but  I  got  along  so  shacklin'  I  'eluded 
I  wouldn't  waste  my  time,  and  quit  short 
off — short  as  pie-crust.  So  IVe  nuver  'fessed 
'ligion  to  this  day ;  I  don't  say  this  boastin' 
— jist  state  the  fact." 

Here,  for  want  of  space,  I  leave  my  friend 
Dick,  only  giving  the  reader,  in  the  follow- 
ing pages,  an  occasional  glance  at  him. 


124  FISHER'S   RIVER   SKETCHES. 


Vn.— OLIVER  STANLEY. 

Oliver  was  quite  a  competitor  in  the  line 
of  big  story-telling,  and  came  to  that  region 
from  the  "seaboard.""  It  did  him  so  much 
good  to  spin  his  yarns  and  tell  his  feats  that 
you  would  feel  perfectly  at  ease  while  he 
laughed  and  "norated"  one  after  another  of 
his  "bully  scrapes."  I  have  room  for  but 
two  of  them,  though  I  could  fill  a  volume. 

But  I  must  first  attempt  a  description  of 
Oliver,  though  a  photographer  could  not  get 
his  inexpressibly  eccentric  features.  He 
was  one  of  your  rare  men  whose  whole  phys- 
iognomy bids  defiance  to  all  picture-taking 
artists. 

He  was  a  small,  well-set  man,  with  a  sal- 
low, dyspeptic  complexion,  black  eyes,  wide- 
mouthed  naturally,  and  it  was  generally 
spread  with  uproarious  laughter.  His  stout, 
well-compacted  body  stood  firmly  upon,  and 
was  carried  with  great  ease  and  facility  by,  a 


OLIVER    STANLEY.  125 

short,  stubbed  pair  of  benched  legs  and  lit- 
tle feet,  after  the  Chinese  fashion.  Though 
his  skin  was  tanned  yellow  as  a  pumpkin  by 
the  seaboard  sun,  yet  he  was  strongly  at- 
tached to  white  garments,  and  with  great 
uniformity  wore  that  color,  to  present,  no 
doubt,  the  striking  contrast  between  white 
cloth  and  a  yellow  skin.  And,  to  give  his 
white  shirt  and  pants  some  variety  in  color, 
he  was  quite  careful  to  besmear  his  front 
well  with  tobacco. 

But  I  must  not  take  up  too  much  time  in 
describing  an  indescribable  man,  and  will 
hasten  to  give  the  reader  two  of  Oliver's  sto- 
ries, giving  them  in  his  own  language ;  and, 
by  the  way,  he  was  a  good  hand  at  coining 
new  words.  His  looks  and  laugh  I  can  not 
give,  for  they  are  not  transferable  to  paper. 
The  first  story  is 

THE  ESCAPE  FEOM  THE  WHALE. 

"On  the  shank  ov  one  monstracious  nice 
eveninV  said  the  redoubtable  Oliver,  after 
spitting  a  stream  of  tobacco-juice  on  a  very 
decent  floor,  "I  toddled  down  to  the  sea- 
board to  git  a  bait  ov  oysters,  feelin'  consid- 


126  FISHER'S    RIVER   SKETCHES. 

dible  qualmy  'bout  my  gizzard.  I  seen  a 
passel  ov  men  com  trucklin\to  me,  rockin' 
along,  see-saw  one  side,  then  see-saw  t'other 
side.  They  soon  fixed  thar  tarnul  peepers 
on  me,  all  on  'um  at  once,  and  charmed  me 
to  the  spot,  like  a  black  snake  charms  a 
catbird,  and  I  couldn't  budge  a  peg  for  the 
life  on  me.  I  were  tetotatiously  spellbound. 
They  come  right  chug  up  to  me,  and  says  one 
on  'um,  '  ]  lellow,  old  landlubber !  Go  with 
us  down  to  the  boat,  and  we'll  gin  you  a 
gully whompin  bait  ov  oysters.' 

"  So,  by  the  same  darned  charm  that  had 
chained  me  to  that  fatal  spot,  I  was  forced 
oiF  with  'um.  I  seen  they  was  a  string  ov 
sailors,  but  what  o'  that?  They  had  sor- 
cerized  me,  and  I  were  a  done-over  sucker ; 
so  I  jist  gin  up.  No  sooner  had  we  'rove  at 
the  boat,  instead  o'  feastin'  me  on  gully- 
whompin  oysters,  they  nabbed  me  quick  as  a 
snappin'  turkle,  put  a  gag  in  my  mouf  quick- 
er nur  yer  could  bridle  a  hoss,  a  bandage  on 
my  peepers,  tied  me  hand  and  foot  like  a 
hog,  shouldered  me,  and  trolluped  off  with 
me  I  couldn't  'jecter  whar.  I  had  ten  thou- 
sand idees  in  a  minit,  but  to  no  use. 


OLIVER    STANLEY.  127 

"'Way  in  the  night  they  loosened  me, 
and  I  soon  seen  I  were  out  on  the  'Lantick 
Pond,  and  says  I,  '  What  on  the  face  ov  the 
yeth  does  this  mean  T  says  I ;  but  they  gin 
me  no  answer  but  a  great  big  hoss  laugh. 
Scissorifactions !  how  mad  I  were.  I  felt 
like  I  could  a  whipped  a  string  o'  wildcats 
long  as  Tar  Hiver.  But  thar  they  stood 
with  pistols  'nuff  to  make  a  corn-sifter  ov 
my  hide  afore  you  could  bat  yer  eye,  pint- 
in'  right  at  me,  and  said,  'No  questions, 
you  landlubber,  else  well  send  you  to  Davy 
Jones's  Locker  afore  three  strokes  ov  a  mut- 
ton's tail.' 

"I  soon  seen  that  the  jig  were  up,  and 
I  mout  as  well  cave  in.  So  I  jist  laid  down 
and  moseyed  off  to  the  land  of  Nod,  and 
staid  in  that  blessed  country  ov  forgitfulness 
till  mornin'.  I  had  sich  great  respect  for 
the  sun  that  I  riz  not  till  he  did ;  then  the 
cap'en  come  to  me  and  explorated  the  whole 
thing.  He  said  they  was  scase  ov  sailors, 
and  thought  they'd  jist  kidnump  me,  and 
make  a  gentleman  sailor  ov  me.  I  seen  my 
cake  were  dough,  and  that  it  warn't  wuth 
while  to  grieve  arter  spilt  milk,  and  that  I'd 


128  FISHER'S    RIVER   SKETCHES. 

make  the  best  on  it.  I  bowed,  told  him  I 
were  at  his  sarvice,  'tarmined  to  make  my 
rent  out'n  'um  and  'feet  my  escape,  whether 
I  got  out'n  the  big  eend  or  the  little  eend  o' 
the  horn.     So  I  went  to  work  bully  fashion. 

"  It  were  a  custom  ov  the  sailors  to  shave 
when  they  crossed  the  equinox.  So  they 
fixed  to  shave  tharselves  'cordin'  to  this  rule 
when  they  got  into  the  Topic  of  Capincorn. 
Arter  one  on  'um,  who  acted  as  barber,  had 
shaved  several  on  'um,  Avhich  he  done  by 
layin'  'um  flat  on  thar  backs,  he  said  to  me, 
'Oliver,'  says  he,  'sprawl  yerself  leeward, 
and  let  me  shave  you  'cordin'  to  the  custom 
o'  the  world-renowned  craft.' 

"Says  I,  'What  do  you  lather  with?' 
says  I,  for  I  had  been  'spectin'  thar  nasty 
lather. 

"  'With  hog's  dung  and  tarpintine,'  says 
he. 

"I  felt  orful  indignunt,  and  looked  dag- 
gerified  at  him,  and  said,  '  Not  I ! '  says  I. 

"  'You'll  see,'  says  he,  and  made  at  me. 

"'Never!'  says  I;  and,  suitin'  action  to 
resolution,  I  kicked  over  the  nasty  gourd  o' 
shavin'  soap   smack  into  the   sea,  jumped 


OLIVER    STANLEY.  129 

overboard,  kitin'  right  arter  it,  co-souse! 
head  foremost,  'tarmined  to  die  afore  I'd 
summit  to  sich  an  indignitorious  shavin'  as 
that. 

"I  duv  'bout  one  hundred  and  fifty  yards, 
riz  to  the  top,  and  outswum  like  creation, 
distancin'  the  sharks,  and  uvry  other  vinim- 
us  fish,  fur  eight  hours,  till  a  monstrus,  maul- 
bustin  whale  com  upon  me,  and  licked  me 
down  like  I'd  been  a  year-old  herrin'. 

"I  soon  seen  I'd  'jumped  out'n  the  fryin'- 
pan  smack  inter  the  fire, '  as  the  parrabal  runs. 
He  piked  right  off  wi'  me,  for  all  the  world 
like  I'd  been  a  tiny  bullfrog — no  more'n  a 
bug  moufful  fur  him.  When  I  landed  at  the 
bottom  uv  his  paunch,  and  had  time  to  sur- 
vey my  parlor  a  little,  I  detarmined  in  less 
nur  no  time  that  I  warn 't  a-gwine  to  staythar; 
it  were  no  place  fur  a  white  man  well  bred. 
I  didn't  like  the  furnitur  at  all.  Every  thing 
were  so  nasty,  I  detarmined  to  shift  my  board- 
in'  and  lodgin'  in  short-metre  time. 

"I  kep'  in  my  pocket  allers  a  tin  water- 
tight fixin',  which  I  toated  my  smokin'  ap- 
perrattus  in.  So  I  detarmined  to  try  what 
vartue  there  were  in  'baccer  smoke,  and  see 

F  2 


130  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

ef  I  couldn't  have  a  volcanic  erucktion, 
and  be  throwed  out'n  his  krater  like  rocks 
out'n  Heckla.  So  I  liberately  took  out  my 
pipe  and  'baccer,  flint,  steel,  and  punk,  struck 
fire,  crossed  my  legs,  lit  my  pipe,  and  went 
to  smokin'  like  ketchin'  herrin'.  I  nuver 
axed  liberty  to  smoke  in  that  parlor,  fur  it 
were  so  dirty  I  didn't  think  it  wuth  while  to 
be  perlite ;  so  I  soon  filled  that  room  with 
rich  smoke.  In  little  ur  no  time  it  waked 
up  the  old  hoss,  fur  he  soon  shown  signs  uv 
disapperbation  at  my  oncommon  liberty.  I 
didn't  let  on.  Presuntly  he  begun  to  blow 
like  a  iron  forge  ;  but  I  smoked  on,  knowin' 
the  subject  were  comin'  to  an  issue  fast. 
Soon  the  old  feller  begin  to  cast  up  fust  one, 
then  another  piece  uv  belly-furnitur,  till  at 
last  he  were  sharp  enuff  to  guess  that  I  were 
the  cause  uv  all  the  fuss  in  his  'dominal  re- 
gions ;  so  he  gin  me  a  rucktion,  and  sent  me 
'bout  a  hundred  feet  right  up  to'ads  the  good 
world.  But  alas!  my  troubles  was  not 
eended,  fur  I  come  down  right  on  the  flat  uv 
my  back  in  the  sea,  co-slash  ! 

"Soon  as  I  struck  water  I  whirled  over, 
quick  as  a  cat,  and  moseyed  ofi*  fur  tumma 


E90APE  FROM  THE  WHAT,!?. 


OLIVER    STANLEY.  I33 

fumma.  My  old  inimy  were  perfectly  sat- 
isfied with  me,  and  let  me  truckle  off  and 
save  my  bacon,  so  fur  as  he  were  consarned. 
So  I  drawed  a  bead  fur  land  somewhar.  I 
swum  fur  a  whole  day  with  sich  verlocity 
that  sea-sarpints,  sharks,  and  uvry  other  vin- 
imous  monster  uv  the  deep  was  no  more  to 
me  than  snails  a-crawlin'.  Jist  at  night  I 
landed  on  a  friendly  island,  and  staid  thar 
till  a  vessel  come  along  and  tuck  me  in  fifty 
miles  uv  home,  whar,  through  great  mercy, 
I  landed  next  day,  to  the  great  joy  and  as- 
tonishment uv  my  friends. " 

The  above  are  the  particulars  of  this  won- 
derful adventure,  "norated"  without  the 
least  fear  of  contradiction,  as  was  ever  indi- 
cated in  his  looks  of  defiance.  After  a  few 
hearty  laughs  and  a  fi:'esh  chew  of  tobacco, 
he  would  introduce,  with  great  gusto,  his 

INDLA.N  AND  BEAE   STORY. 

"Soon  arter  this  kidnappering  by  the 
sailors,"  said  the  imperturbable  Oliver,  "I 
'eluded  I'd  best  save  my  bacon  by  leavin' 
the  seaboard,  and  try  my  luck  in  the  AUe- 


134  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

gany  Mountings ;  fur  this  scrape  had  made 
a  rantankerous  impression  on  me.  So  I 
pulled  up  my  stakes,  which  it  warn't  hard 
to  do,  and  piked  off  to  a  higher  latitude.  I 
hadn't  a  doubt  in  my  noggin  but  what  I'd 
far  a  nation  sight  better  nur  I  had  on  the 
seaboard.  But  hush,  honey !  thar  were  no 
rest  fur  Oliver  Stanley,  fur  he  were  borned 
to  rough  'ventures.  It  is  the  lot  uv  great 
men  uvry  whar,  in  uvry  age. 

"No  sooner  had  I  landed  and  marked 
off  a  little  spot  uv  yeth  fur  a  home,  and  had 
made  a  little  deadnin'  on  it,  than  the  cussed 
red-skinned  Injins  'vaded  my  peaceful  hom- 
icil,  kidnumped  me  wusser  ef  possible  nur 
the  tarnacious  tompaulin  sailors  did,  as  jist 
norated.  When  they  got  me  'way  out  inter 
the  mountings,  where  no  huming  but  an  In- 
jin  (ef  they  are  humings)  uver  trod  the  sile, 
after  wavin',  brandisherin',  and  gleameratin' 
thar  tommyhocks  over  my  knowledge -box 
for  a  long  spell,  and  then  thar  butcher-knives 
in  the  same  threatnin'  aspex,  they  helt  a 
council  over  my  case,  and  after  much  glom- 
eration  of  talk  they  decided  to  head  me  up 
tight  in  a  bar'l,  and  let  me  starve  to  death. 


OLIVER    STANLEY.  I35 

"This  drefful  detarmination  they  carried 
into  refect,  for  they  had  toated  a  ile  barl  all 
the  way  with  'um  on  purpose,  I  s'pose.  So 
they  jist  loosened  some  uv  the  hoops  at  one 
eend,  tuck  out  the  head,  put  me  in,  and 
headed  me  up  tight  as  ef  I'd  a  bin  old  peach 
brandy,  all  'ceptin  the  bung-hole  at  one  eend 
fur  me  to  git  ar.  Now  ef  the  unhuman 
critters  had  'skluded  all  the  ar,  my  wind 
would  a  bin  broke  quick  as  crockery,  and 
ray  troubles  would  a  been  eended,  and  me  at 
rest.  But  not  so,  bless  you,  mate!  that 
were  too  good  fur  an  Injun.  So  they  jist 
left  a  bung-hole,  inch  and  a  half  big,  to  feed 
me  with  ar  till  I  bolted  out,  be  it  long  or 
short. 

"  They  put  me  in,  as  jist  norated,  jabbered 
a  little,  and  left  me  to  my  own  codgertations. 
I  codgertated  and  rumbinated  fast,  I  tell 
you,  but  it  done  no  good.  I  soon  got  a-hon- 
gry,  which  I  allers  had  a  rantankerous  ap- 
pertite,  and  thought  uv  uvry  thing  to  eat, 
good  and  bad,  in  all  creation,  pertic'ler  uv 
the  big,  lungin',  fat  oysters  on  the  seaboard. 
But  it  didn't  suffy  any  thing ;  it  only  whet- 
ted my  gizzard  to  think  uv  'um.     And  the 


136  FISHER'S   RIVER    SKETCHES. 

nasty,  stinkin',  tarnacious  old  ile  barl  stunk 
like  thunder. 

"So  I  detarmined  to  git  out'n  thar  ur 
bust  a  trace;  and  so  I  jist  pounded  away 
with  my  fist,  till  I  beat  it  nairly  into  a  jelly, 
at  the  eend  uv  the  barl ;  but  it  were  no  go. 
Then  I  butted  a  spell  with  my  noggin,  but  I 
had  no  purchase  like  old  rams  have  when 
they  butt,  fur  you  know  they  back  ever  so 
fur  when  they  take  a  tilt.  Now  ef  I'd  a 
had  a  purchase  to  a  backed,  I'd  a  knocked 
the  head  out'n  that  barl  to  the  astonish- 
ment uv  painters  and  wildcats' — fur  the 
woods  was  full  on  'um,  frum  the  racket 
they  made. 

"So  I  caved  in,  made  my  last  will  and 
testerment,  and  vartually  gin  up  the  ghost. 
It  were  a  mighty  serious  time  with  me,  fur 
sure.  While  I  were  lyin  thar,  balancin'  ac- 
counts with  t'other  world,  and  afore  I  had 
all  my  figgers  made  out  to  see  hoAv  things 
'ud  stand,  I  hearn  suthin'  scrambulatin'  in 
the  leaves,  and  snortin'  uvry  whip-stitch  like 
he  smelt  suthin'  he  didn't  adzackly  like.  I 
lay  as  still  as  a  salamander,  and  thought. 
Maybe  there's  a  chance  fur  Stanley  yit. 


OLIVER   STANLEY.  I37 

"  So  the  critter,  whatever  it  mout  be,  kep' 
moseyin''  round  the  bar'l.  Last  he  come  to 
the  bung-hole,  put  his  nose  in,  and  smelt 
mighty  perticler,  and  gin  a  monstrous  loud 
snort.  I  helt  what  little  breath  I  had,  to 
keep  the  critter  from  smellin'  the  intarnuls 
uv  the  bar'l.  I  soon  seen  it  were  a  bar — 
the  big  king  bar  uv  the  woods,  who  had 
lived  thar  from  time  immortal.  Thinks  I, 
old  feller,  look  out ;  old  Oliver  ain't  dade 
yit.  Jist  then  he  put  his  big  black  paw  in 
jist  as  fur  as  he  could,  and  scrabbled  about 
to  make  some  'scovery. 

"  The  fust  thought  that  struck  my  noggin 
was  to  nab  his  paw,  as  'a  drowndin'  man 
will  ketch  at  a  straw  ;'  but  I  soon  seen  that 
wouldn't  do,  fur,  you  see,  he  couldn't  then 
travel.  Thinks  I,  'There's  luck  in  leisure,' 
as  I've  hearn  folks  say,  so  111  try  it,  wusser 
fur  better  and  better  fur  wusser,  as  the  par- 
son says  when  he  marries  folks.  So  I  jist 
waited  a  spell,  with  great  flutterbation  of 
mind. 

"His  next  move  was  to  put  his  tail  in 
the  bung-hole  uv  the  bar'l  to  test  its  innards. 
I  seen  that  were  my  time  to  make  my  Jack ; 


138  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

SO  I  seized  holt,  and  shouted  at  the  top  uv 
my  voice,  weak  as  it  was, 

"  '  Charge,  Chester !  charge  ! 
On,  Stanley  !  on !' 

And  the  bar  he  put,  and  I  knowed  tail  holt 
were  better  than  no  holt,  and  on  we  went, 
barl  and  all,  the  bar  at  full  speed.  Now 
my  hope  were  that  the  bar  would  jump  over 
some  presserpiss,  brake  the  barl  all  to  shiv- 
erations,  and  liberate  me  from  my  nasty, 
stinking,  ily  prison.  And,  sure  'nuff,  the 
bar  at  full  speed,  outrunning  a  scared  wolf, 
leaped  over  a  catterrack  fifty  foot  high. 
Down  we  all  went  together  in  a  pile,  co- 
whoUop,  on  a  big  rock,  bustin'  the  barl  all 
to  ilin derations,  n airly  shockin'  my  gizzard 
out^n  me.  I  let  go  my  tail  holt — had  no 
more  use  for  it — and  away  went  the  bar  like 
a  whirlygust  uv  woodpeckers  were  arter  it. 
IVe  nuther  seen  nur  hearn  from  that  bar 
since,  but  he  has  my  best  wishes  fur  his  pres- 
ent and  futer  welfar." 

The  foregoing  are  pretty  fair  specimens  of 
the  story-telling  of  my  old  friend  Oliver 
Stanley. 


LARKIN    SNOW,  THE    MILLER.  X39 


VIII.— LARKm  SKOW,  THE  MILLER. 

Larkin  Snow  was  doomed  to  be  a  miller. 
I  have  ever  believed  that  a  man  will  fill  the 
station  for  which  he  was  designed  by  the 
Sovereign  Master  Overseer  of  mankind. 
Though  Providence  designs  a  man  for  a  cer- 
tain position,  natural  causes  and  agencies 
operate  also,  and,  ere  he  is  aware  of  it,  he  is 
fulfilling  his  destiny.  But  I  will  not  moral- 
ize ;  my  business  is  with  facts. 

Larkin  Snow  was  a  graduate  —  an  old 
stager — in  milling  when  I  was  a  mill-boy ; 
and  the  last  time  I  heard  of  him,  and  no 
doubt  at  this  present  time  of  writing,  he  is 
grinding  away  at  somebody's  tub-mill,  for  he 
never  owned  a  mill — not  he.  Over  a  quar- 
ter of  a  century  ago  I  was  a  jolly,  singing, 
hoop-pee  mill-boy,  and  carried  many  a 
"grice"  to  William  Easley's  tub-mill  on 
"Little  Fish  E-iver,"  kept  by  my  old  friend 
Larkin  Snow.     But  where  am  I  wandering? 


140  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

After  all,  the  reader  must  indulge  me  a 
little  while  I  pay  a  tribute  of  respect  to  the 
numerous  tub-mills  of  my  native  country, 
for  it  does  me  good  to  think  of  them  and  of 
my  mill-boy  days.  Who  has  not  been  a 
romping  mill-boy  ? 

Well,  I  love  tub-mills,  and  ever  shall,  for 
my  grandfather  was  the  father  of  them  in 
that  section.  i 

"But  who  is  your  grandfather?" 

Never  mind.  Go  and  ask  Larkin  Snow, 
for  he  knows  every  man  that  ever  built  a 
mill,  or  ever  kept  one  in  that  mountain  ter- 
ritory. His  memory  is  a  perfect  genealogy 
of  mills  and  millers.  Uncle  Billy  Lewis 
built  a  tub-mill  on  nearly  every  mountain 
branch  (and  they  were  numerous)  where  he 
could  get  two  or  three  customers.  Uncle 
Davy  Lane,  who  figures  largely  in  this  vol- 
ume, had  a  tub-mill  on  "Moore's  Fork,"  as 
lazy  and  slow  in  its  movements  as  its  owner. 
The  truth  is.  Uncle  Davy  had  the  advan- 
tage, for  "sarpunts"  could  move  him  to  the 
speed  of  electricity,  but  a  "good  head  of  wa- 
ter" made  but  little  diiFerence  with  his  mill. 
His   son  "Dave"  kept   it  (said  Dave  was' 


LARKIN    SNOW,  THE    MILLER.  141 

his  daddy's  own  son),  and  he  and  I  used 
to  bake  "johnny-cakes"  to  keep  from  starv- 
ing while  it  was  grinding  my  "grice."  We 
ate  nearly  as  fast  as  it  could  grind.  But 
my  old  neighbor,  William  Easley,  had  the 
fastest  tub-mill  in  all  that  country,  on  Little 
Fisher's  River,  and  Larkin  Snow  was  his 
faithful  miller. 

Every  man  has  ambition  of  some  kind, 
and  Larkin,  though  nothing  but  a  humble 
miller  who  gloried  in  his  calling,  had  his 
share,  and  a  good  one  too,  of  ambition.  His 
ambition  consisted  in  being  the  best  miller 
in  the  land,  and  in  being  number  one  in  big 
story-telling.  He  had  several  competitors, 
as  may  be  seen  from  these  sketches,  but  he 
held  his  own  with  them  all,  even  with  Uncle 
Davy  Lane.  The  reader  will  judge  best, 
however,  when  he  reads  the  stories  given  as 
samples  of  Larkin's  gift  in  that  line.  Lar- 
kin must  pardon  us,  should  he  ever  see  these 
pages,  for  giving  but  two  of  his  fine  stories, 
that  of  the  eels  and  the  fox-dog.  These  sto- 
ries will  do  him  ample  justice. 

Larkin  Snow  was  a  patient,  kind,  forbear- 
ing-looking  man,  of  ordinary  size.     His  eyes 


142  FISHER'S   RIVER   SKETCHES. 

squinted,  and  so  did  his  sallow  features. 
His  dress  was  plain:  tow  and  cotton  shirt, 
summer  and  winter ;  striped  cotton  pants 
in  summer,  and  dressed  buckskin  ones  in 
winter;  no  coat  in  summer,  a  linsey  hunt- 
ing-shirt in  winter.  His  hat  was  wool,  turn- 
ed up  all  round,  gummed  up  with  meal,  and 
so  was  his  entire  suit.  His  looks  were 
wholly  unambitious — strange  that  he  should 
ever  strive  to  excel  in  big  story-telling.  But 
looks  sometimes  deceive  one,  and  we  will  let 
Larkin  speak  for  himself  in  the 

STORY  OF  THE  EELS. 

"Now,  you  see,  while  I  were  keepin'  Mr. 
Easley's  mill,"  said  Larkin,  squinting  his 
eyes  and  features,  showing  the  remains  of 
his  little  round  teeth,  nearly  worn  to  the 
gums  chewing  tobacco,  "I  planted  me  a 
track  patch  near  the  bank  uv  the  river,  jist 
below  the  mill-dam.  I  knowed  I  could 
work  it  at  odd  spells,  while  the  water  were 
low  and  the  mill  ran  slow,  and  I  jist  filled  it 
with  all  sorts  o'  things  and  notions.  But 
as  all  on  us,  the  old  Quilt  (his  wife),  childer- 
ing,  and  all,  was  mighty  fond  o'  peas,  I  were 


LARKIN    SNOW,  THE    MILLEE.  ^43 

mighty  perticler  to  plant  a  miglity  good 
share  uv  them ;  and  to  make  a  bully  crap  o' 
Crowders  and  all  other  sorts  o'  peas  uver 
hearn  on,  I  pitched  them  in  the  best  spot  uv 
the  little  bit  uv  yeth,  near  the  river,  clost  on 
the  bank. 

"We,  the  old  Quilt  and  I,  spilt  sevrul 
galluns  uv  humin  grease  workin'  on  'um, 
and  they  growed  monstus  nice.  We  was 
a-congratterlatin'  ourselves  on  the  monstus 
crap  we'd  make,  when  we  seed  suthin  kept 
crappin'  'um,  perticler  right  on  the  bank  uv 
the  river.  Uvry  mornin'  it  was  wuss  and 
wuss.  I  soon  seen  the  thing  would  be  out 
wi'  my  peas  ef  thar  warn't  a  stop  put  to  it, 
fur  thar  wouldn't  a  bin  a  Crowder  to  sweet- 
en our  teeth  with.  I  kept  watchin'  and 
watchiri',  but  couldn't  make  the  least  'scuv- 
ry.  The  fence  were  allers  up  good,  the  gate 
shot,  and  not  the  track  of  varmunts  could  be 
seen  nur  smelt,  har  nur  hide.  I  were  mighty 
low  down  in  the  mouth,  I  tell  you.  Starva- 
tion huv  in  sight ;  my  sallet  were  meltin' 
away  mighty  fast. 

' '  I  were  so  mightily  taken  down  'bout  it 
I  couldn't  sleep  a  wink ;    so  I  thort  I  mout 


144  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

as  well  watch.  I  sneaked  along  down  to 
the  bank  uv  the  river  through  my  pea-patch. 

The  moon  were  shinin'  mighty  bright,  and 
what  do  you  think  I  seen?  I  seen  'bout 
five  hundred  big  maulbustin  eels  dart  into 
the  river  out'n  my  pea-patch.  I  soon  seen 
through  the  dreadful  Vastation  uv  my  black- 
eyed  Crowders ;  the  pesky  eels  had  done  it." 

"Dang  it,  Larkin,"  said  Dick  Snow, 
"whar  did  sich  a  gullbustin  chance  uv  eels 
cum  from  f 

"Eels,  you  see,"  continued  Larkin,  "ef 
you  knowed  the  natur  on  'um,  are  mighty 
creeturs  to  travel,  and  they'd  cum  up — a 
host  on  'um  —  fur  as  the  mill-dam,  and 
couldn't  git  no  furder.  They  had  to  live, 
and  they'd  cotched  uvry  minner,  and  had 
eat  up  uvry  thing  in  the  river  about  thar, 
and  they  moseyed  out  on  my  pea-patch. 

"Now  I  were  fur  from  lettin'  them  eat 
up  my  crap,  so  I  put  on  my  studyin'  cap  to 
find  out  the  best  plan  to  make  a  smash  uv 
the  whole  bilin'  on  'um.  I  soon  hit  the  nail 
on  the  head,  and  fixed  on  the  plan. 

"You  see  thar  were  but  one  place  whar 
they  could  git  out'n  the  river  inter  my  patch 


LARKIN    SNOW,  THE    MILLER.  ^47 

uv  Crowders,  and  that  were  a  narrer  place, 
'bout  three  foot  wide,  that  crossed  the  river. 
I  knowed  it  warn't  wuth  while  to  try  to  hold 
the  creeters,  they  was  so  slickery ;  so,  you 
see,  I  sot  a  big,  whoppin  barl  near  the  river 
whar  they  cum  out,  near  thar  path.  I  told 
the  old  Quilt  to  fill  it  full  uv  dry  ashes  du- 
rin'  the  day  while  I  were  grindin',  which  she 
done,  fur  the  old  creetur  thought  a  mighty 
sight  uv  her  pea-patch. 

"Now  when  night  cum  on,  and  a  dark 
one  too — a  good  night  fur  eels  to  graze,  and 
when  I  thort  all  on  'um  was  out  a-grazin',  I 
sneaked  along  by  the  bank  uv  the  river, 
mighty  sly,  I  tell  you,  till  I  got  to  the  bar'l. 
I  then  listened,  and  hearn  'um  makin'  the 
peas  wake ;  so  I  jist  turned  the  barl  over 
right  smack  in  thar  path,  and  filled  it  chug 
full  uv  the  dry  ashes  fur  ten  steps,  I  reckon. 
I  then  went  up  in  the  patch  above  'um,  gin 
a  keen  holler,  and  away  they  went,  scootin' 
fur  the  river.  You  nuver  hearn  sich  a  rip- 
pin'  and  clatteration  afore,  I  reckon.  I 
knowed  I  had  'um ;  so,  you  see,  I  called  fur 
a  torchlight  to  see  my  luck.  Now  when  the 
old  Quilt  and  the  childering  brought  the 


148  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

light,  hallaluyer !  what  a  sight.  Sich  a  pile 
on  'um,  all  workin'  up  together  in  the  dry 
ashes,  like  maggits  in  carron.  The  ashes 
were  the  very  thing  fur  'um,  fur  they  soon 
gin  up  the  ghost. 

"I  soon,  you  see,  'cided  what  to  do  with 
'um.  "We  went  to  work  and  tuck  out'n  the 
ashes  five  hundred  and  forty-nine,  some  uv 
'um  master  eels.  All  the  next  day  we  was 
a-skinnin',  cleanin',  and  barrelin'  on  'um  up. 
They'd  got  fat  out'n  my  peas,  but  we  got  good 
pay  out'n  'um  fur  it.  The  fryin'-pan  stunk  fur 
months  with  fat  eels,  and  we  all  got  fat  and 
sassy.  So  I  were  troubled  no  more  with 
eels  that  year ;  fur  I  think,  you  see,  we 
shucked  out  the  whole  river." 

This  story  he  would  tell  you  coolly,  while 
he  would  occasionally  feel  of  his  meal — while 
the  old  tub-mill  would  perform  its  slow  rev- 
olutions as  though  it  was  paid  by  the  year — 
to  see  whether  it  was  ground  fine  enough  to 
suit  him.  He  would  then  give  you  one  of 
his  peculiar  looks,  having  just  got  his  hand 
in,  and  would  tell  you  the  story  of  the 


LARKIN    SNOW,  THE    MILLER.  I49 


FAST-EUNNING  DOG. 

Fox-hunting  was  a  favorite  sport  with 
many;   indeed,  all  loved  it,  but  only  a  few 
kept  hounds   and  gave  chase  to  mischiev- 
ous Reynard.     Foxes  were  quite  plenty,  and 
renowned  for  deeds  of  daring.     The  women 
hated  hounds  most  cordially,  yet  they  would 
endure  them  for  the  sake  of  their  fowls.     If 
their  fowls  were  destroyed,  they  could  nei- 
ther make  soup  nor  their  rich  pot-pies,  both 
of  which  were  much  admired.     Wylie  Frank-  s 
lin  was  a  great  favorite  with  chicken-raisers,  \ 
for  if  a  hen-roost  was  invaded  a  hint  to  him  \ 
was  all  that  was  needed,  and  the  marauder 
was  soon  taken.     The  compositions  of  Mo-  ^ 
zart,  Handel,  and  Haydn  were  no  music  to 
these  fox-hunters  compared  with  the  voice 
of  hounds  in  the  chase.      Sometimes  there 
would  be  a  great  rally  of  fox-hunters  at 
some  point  to  have  a  united  chase,  to  see 
who  had  the  fastest  and  the  toughest  hound. 
This  must  be  kept  in  view  in  reading  the 
story  of  Larkin's  fast-running  dog. 

"You  see,"  said  Larkin,  "a  passel  uv  fel- 


150  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

lers  cum  frum  'bout  Eockford,  Jonesville, 
and  the  Holler  to  have  a  fox-hunt,  and  kep' 
a-boastin'  uv  thar  fast  dogs.  I  told  'um  my 
little  dog  Flyin'-jib  could  beat  all  thar  dogs, 
and  give  'um  two  in  the  game.  I  called 
him  up  and  showed  him  to  'um,  and  you 
mout  a  hearn  'um  laugh  a  mile,  measured 
with  a  'coonskin  and  the  tail  throwed  in.  I 
told  'um  they'd  laugh  t'other  side  o'  thar 
mouths  afore  it  were  done.  They  hooted  me. 
"We  went  out  with  'bout  fifty  hounds, 
and,  as  good  luck  would  hev  it,  we  started  a 
rale  old  Yirginny  red  fox,  'bout  three  hours 
afore  day,  on  the  west  side  uv  Skull  Camp 
Mountin.  He  struck  right  off  for  the  Sad- 
dle Mountin,  then  whirled  round  over  Scott's 
Knob,  then  to  Cedar  Ridge,  up  it,  and  over 
Fisher's  Peak,  round  back  uv  the  Blue  Ridge, 
then  crossed  over  and  down  it  at  Blaze 
Spur,  then  down  to  and  over  Bound  Peak, 
then  Down  Ring's  Creek  to  Shipp's  Muster- 
ground,  and  on  agin  to'ads  Skull  Camp. 
Not  fur  from  Shipp's  Muster-ground  they 
passed  me,  and  Flyin'-jib  Were  'bout  half  a 
mile  ahead  on  'um  all,  goin'  fast  as  the  re- 
port  of  a   rifle   gun.      Passin'  through   a 


LARKIN    SNOW,  THE    MILLER,  X51 

meader  wliar  thar  were  a  mowin'-scythe  with 
the  blade  standin'  up,  Flyin'-jib  run  chug 
aginst  it  with  sich  force  that  it  split  him 
wide  open  frum  the  eend  uv  his  nose  to  the 
tip  uv  his  tail.  Thar  he  lay,  and  nuver 
whimpered,  tryin'  to  run  right  on.  I  streaked 
it  to  him,  snatched  up  both  sides  uv  him, 
slajDped  'um  together,  but  were  in  sich  a  hur- 
ry that  I  put  two  feet  down  and  two  up. 
But  away  he  went  arter  the  fox,  scootin' 
jist  in  that  fix.  You  see,  when  he  got  tired 
runnin'  on  two  feet  on  one  side,  he'd  whirl 
over,  quick  as  lightnin',  on  t'other  two,  and 
it  seemed  ruther  to  hev  increased  his  ver- 
locity.  He  cotch  the  fox  on  the  east  side 
uv  Skull  Camp,  a  mile  ahead  uv  the  whole 
kit  uv  'um. 

"Now  when  the  fellers  cum  up,  and  seen 
all  thar  dogs  lyin'  on  the  ground  pantin'  fur 
life,  and  Flyin'-jib  jist  gittin'  his  hand  in,  they 
was  mighty  low  down  in  the  mouth,  I  war- 
rant you.  All  the  conserlation  they  had 
was  seein'  my  dog  in  sich  a  curious  fix. 
But  I  jist  kervorted,  and  told  'um  that  were 
the  way  fur  a  dog  to  run  fast  and  long,  fust 
one  side  up,  then  t'other — it  rested  him. " 


152  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 


IX.— UNCLE  BILLY  LEWIS. 

Clever  old  man !  little  did  he  think  that 
his  name  would  ever  get  "into  prent,"  and 
be  ranked  among  the  heroes  of  Fisher's  Riv- 
er. I  know  he  never  sought  it ;  however,  I 
love  to  honor  an  humble-minded  man. 

Uncle  Billy  Lewis  came  from  the  "  Huck- 
t'leberry  Ponds,"  near  Fayetteville.  An  un- 
fortunate accident  forced  him,  much  against 
his  will,  to  leave  his  native  section,  to  which 
he  was  devotedly  attached.  But  he  was 
quite  a  philosopher,  and  seemed  cheerful  and 
hap23y  in  the  mountains  of  Surry.  He  was 
ever  busy,  either  in  building  tub-mills  across 
the  mountain  creeks  and  branches,  sitting  on 
his  "hunkers"  cutting  out  mill-stones  in  the 
lonely  mountains,  or  hunting  deer,  turkeys, 
and  bees  in  the  wild  forests.  Not  a  lazy 
bone  in  his  tough,  yellow-tanned  skin.  No 
Cherokee  Indian  was  more  fleet  on  foot  than 
he.     A  quarter  of  a  century  has  passed  since 


UNCLE    BILLY    LEWIS.  I53 

I  saw  him,  yet  his  image  is  as  indelibly  fixed 
on  my  mind  as  though  I  had  seen  him  but 
yesterday.     He  was  an  unforgetable  man. 

There  he  stands,  full  six  feet  high,  well 
put  up  for  walking,  more  limbs  than  body. 
His  rifle  and  shot-pouch  are  prominent  ob- 
jects, for  he  wears  them  gracefully.     It  is 
winter,  and  he  has  on  his  winter  dress.     Be- 
gin at  his  head  and  look  down  to  his  feet. 
He  wears  a  smooth   " 'coonskin*"  fur  hat, 
glazed  all  over  with  sweat  and  grease  from 
his  head,  and  looks  black  and  sleek  as  a  dan- 
dy's boots.     A  walnut-dyed  linsey  hunting- 
shirt,  girded  with  a  leathern  belt — said  belt 
looks  as  if  it  might  have  come  from  oiF  one  of 
Adam''s  calves.    His  "jacket"  is  made  of  calf- 
skin tanned  with  the  hair  on.     His  "britch- 
es" are  dressed  buckskin,  tight  as  the  skin, 
w^ith  sole-leather  buttons  sewed  on  with  a 
leather  thong.     Instead  of  shoes,  he  wears 
hoo;skin  moccasins  broo-ued  with  sole-leather. 
He  wears  a  tow  and  cotton  shirt,  and  as  to 
drawers  the  deponent  saith  not. 

But  look  at  that  odd  face,  long  and  lank, 

yellow   and  thick-skinned ;    forehead   large 

and  high  ;  eyes  large  and  white,  dull-looking 
G2 


154  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

and  expressive  of  confidence  in  and  generos- 
ity toward  men  ;  two  large  upper  front  teeth 
sticking  out  of  his  mouth  like  iron  wedges ; 
his  chin  long  and  expressive  of  marvelous- 
ness.  The  whole  countenance  combined  says 
Uncle  Billy  Lewis  is  an  honest,  confiding, 
simple-hearted,  artless  man,  easily  duped  by 
wags  and  sharpers. 

Uncle  Billy  could  not  speak  plainly,  was 
a  little  tongue-tied,  and  then  those  iron- 
wedged  teeth  prevented  him  firom  articulat- 
ing distinctly.  Besides,  he  was  naturally 
disposed  to  be  short  and  sententious  in  his 
conversation,  any  way.  But  I  must  not  be 
too  long  in  trying  to  bring  the  image  of  my 
old  friend  before  the  reader's  mind.  Let 
the  old  man,  in  his  characteristic  way,  tell 
you  the  story  of 

THE  fiee-huis:t. 

"This  is  a  monstrous  nice  nis^ht  to  shine 
old  bucks'  eyes.  Uncle  Billy ;  s'pose  we  take 
a  fire-hunt,"  said  a  quiz  to  the  old  man,  to 
draw  out  of  him  the  reasons  that  caused  him 
to  leave  the  "Huckleberry  Ponds"  of  Cum- 
berland. 


UNCLE    BILLY    LEWIS,  155 

"It  mout  be,"  said  Uncle  Billy,  with  his 
white,  leaden  eyes  looking  very  sorrowfully, 
"but  I  don'  'elude  111  fire-hunt  no  more. 
That  drefPul  night  that  caused  me  to  leave 
good  ole  Cumberland  I  shall  never  forgit. 
That  wur  the  wust  fire-hunt  a  poor  mortal 
ever  got  inter.  It  was  a  dark,  drizzly  night 
— good  night  fur  jacker-mer- lanterns  and 
old  bucks.  I  took  O'Pan,  *  loaded  her  heavy 
with  big  buck  drop-shot,  which  I  bought  in 
Fayetteville  with  huckleberries,  with  pan  and 
torch  on  a  shoulder ;  got  lost — led  out'n  my 
way  by  a  stinkin'  jacker-mer-lantern.  I  went 
bogin  along,  thought  I  was  gwine  right, 
looked  afore  me,  seed  a  whole  heap  o'  bright 
shiny  eyes,  turned  the  pan  round  and  round. 
'  Shiny  eyes — shiny  eyes, '  says  I ;  '  now's  the 
time !   njow's  the  time ! ' 

"I  whip  up  O'Pan,  draw  a  bead — ^bang! 
went  O'Pan ;  jingle,  jingle,  jingle  went 
chains.  I  see  men  comin' ;  I  throw  down 
O'Pan,  light,  and  all,  and  took  through  the 
huckleberry  swamp  like  a  'coon.  Here  come 
men  arter  me,  sayin',  '  Here  he  goes,  boys ! 
here  he  goes ! ' 

*  His  musket. 


156  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

''I  run  on,  come  to  mud-pond,  and  in  I 
went,  sock !  sock !  sock !  last  up  I  go  to  my 
armpits,  and  could  go  no  furder.  Men  come 
up  and  say,  '  Here  he  went,  boys !  here  he 
went ! '' 

' '  I  lay  in  the  mud,  still  as  a  turkle,  till 
they  lost  me.  When  they  left  me  I  tried  to 
git  out — had  a  hard  time  of  it.  Thar  stood 
a  jacker-mer-lantern  grinnin'  at  me.  I  rake 
mud,  fust  with  one  hand,  then  with  t'other — 
rake,  rake.  Last  out  I  cum,  muddy  as  a 
hog.  I  went  home,  told  the  fambly,  left 
that  night,  fambly  follered,  and  all  the  poor 
men  got  for  my  shootin'  thar  bosses  was 
O'Pan  and  my  torch-pan.  That  was  a 
raem'ble  night  —  never  forgit  —  never  fire- 
hunt  since." 

UNCLE  BILLY  PREACHES. 

Uncle  Billy  was  a  Baptist,  and  doubtless 
a  good  man.  The  only  thing  that  ever  was  al- 
leged against  him  was  shining  the  horses'  eyes, 
"liftin'  up  O'Pan,  bang!"  and  making  the 
horses'  chains  go  "jingle,  jingle!"  and  then 
leaving  old  Cumberland  between  two  suns, 
if  that  part  of  the  story  is  correct.     Wheth- 


THE    FIRE-nTTNT. 


UNCLE    BILLY    LEWIS.  ^59 

er  or  not  there  were  any  horses  killed,  no  de- 
ponent has  testified.  It  is  probable  Uncle 
Billy  thought  going  through  the  mud 
' '  sock !  sock ! "  sinking  into  the  mud  well-nigh 
chin  deep,  and  being  grinned  at  Avhile  in  that 
pitiable  condition  by  that  impudent  and 
wicked  "jacker-mer-lantern,"  was  a  sufficient 
atonement.  At  any  rate,  in  old  Surry,  "by 
his  fruit"  he  was  considered  by  all  a  good 
man. 

I  have  intimated  that  he  was  a  very  cred- 
ulous man,  and  easily  imposed  upon  by 
wags.  He  had  wanted  to  preach  for  some 
time  —  had  some  "loud  calls"  —  but  his 
Church  gave  him  no  encouragement,  believ- 
ing; some  one  else  was  "called"  and  Uncle 
Billy  had  answered.  He  was  not  "slow  of 
speech, "  but  he  could  lay  a  good  claim  to  a 
"stammering  tongue."  His  brethren,  on 
that  account,  thought  he  could  not  "edify 
them." 

There  were,  however,  a  few  "outsiders" 
who  urged  the  old  man  to  "exercise  his 
gift."  Bill  Holder,  Hen  Holder,  Ike  Puck- 
ett,  Bill  Auberry,  Shack  Gallion,  and  others, 
encouraged  him  to   "hold  forth."     "They 


1,30  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES, 

wouldn't  ax  the  Church  no  boot,  no  how. 
He  were  a  free  man.  Well  make  you  up 
the  biggest  crowds  ef  you'll  jist  hold  night 
meetings. " 

The  thing  took.  There  was  a  shrewd 
man,  Jim  Blevins,  in  whom  Uncle  Billy  had 
unbounded  confidence,  who  urged  him  for- 
ward to  his  "duty."  Jim's  advice  was 
taken,  and  Uncle  Billy  made  several  ap- 
pointments, and  had  "thundering  crowds," 
mostly  young  people  for  their  amusement. 
There  they  sat,  with  their  "heads  bowed 
down  like  the  loonsome  bulrush,"  as  Uncle 
Billy  poetically  expressed  it,  weeping  over 
their  sins,  as  he  thought,  but  the  wicked 
creatures  were  laughing. 

Jim  Blevins  always  attended,  and  manu- 
factured a  good  portion  of  the  old  man's 
thunder — would  tell  him  what  to  say  to  "  re- 
larm  the  wicked  folks."  The  last  sermon 
Uncle  Billy  ever  preached,  Blevins,  his  Vul- 
can, manufactured  some  heavy  thunderbolts 
for  him. 

Jim  told  him,  one  evening  before  he 
preached,  that  he  had  "  suthin'  relarmin'  to 
tell  him,"     That  he  had  been  that  day  on 


UNCLE    BILLY    LEWIS.  IgJ 

the  Bald  Rock  on  Fisher's  Peak,  and  while 
sitting  under  a  bunch  of  bushes  near  the 
edge  of  the  Bald  Rock,  it  being  very  hot,  he 
saw  a  huge  flying  snake  in  the  air  above 
him,  fall  twelve  feet  long,  with  a  stinger  at 
the  end  of  his  tail  at  least  twelve  inches 
long,  and  its  eyes  were  like  balls  of  fire.  It 
would  fly  round  the  Peak  and  the  Bald 
Rock,  looking  first  on  one  side,  then  on  the 
other,  screaming  worse  than  a  panther.  "I 
sloped,"  continued  Jim,  "back  uv  Fisher's 
Peak,  but  it  were  like  jumj^in'  out'n  the  fry- 
in'-pan  inter  the  fire ;  for  thar  I  hearn  a 
yahoo.  It  was  a-bawlin'  loLider  than  a  can- 
non, '  ya-hoo !  ya-hoo ! '  I  hid,  and  it  come 
by  in  thirty  yards  liv  me.  What  a  bustin 
critter  it  was !  It  had  horns  ten  foot  long, 
mouth  as  big  as  a  hogshead,  and  teeth  long 
as  a  sword  and  sharp  as  a  razor.  The  way 
it  kills  things  is,  it  gits  them  on  its  horns, 
and  keeps  tossin'  them  up  till  they  are  dead 
as  a  herrin',  then  he  swallows  them  down 
slick  as  a  bar  swallerin'  down  a  piece  uv 
honey-comb.  Uncle  Billy,  you  ought  to 
warn  the  people  uv  thar  drefful  danger  this 
night.     I've  discharged  my  duty  in  tellin' 


162  FISHER'S    RIVER   SKETCHES. 

you,  and  I  now  leave  it  with  you  to  clare 
yer  skirts  of  thar  blood. " 

That  was  enough.  The  conscientious  old 
man  felt  newly  commissioned,  and  more 
thunder  to  his  former  stock  was  added.  He 
met  his  audience,  commenced,  and  soon  got 
through  the  doctrinal  part  of  his  sermon, 
and  then  came  to  the  "pathetic  part."  I 
shall  only  attempt  to  give  the  closing  part 
of  his  exhortation.  With  great  earnest- 
ness in  his  sad,  woe-begone  countenance,  he 
said, 

"Sinner,  you'd  better  'pent!  Danger 
abroad!  Look  out,  I  tell  ye.  Skin  yer 
eyes  good.  Open  yer  ears  wide.  Listen, 
that  you  may  hear.  Your  blood  mout  be 
'quired  o'  me.  Jim  Blevins  seen — O  sin- 
ner, 'pent  and  listen — Jim  Blevins  seen — 
O  my  soul! — Jim  Blevins  went  on  Fisher's 
Peak  this  mornin',  and  to  the  Baw'  Rock, 
got  tired,  sot  down  under  bunch  o'  bushes 
to  rest,  and  what  did  he  see  ?  O  my  soul ! 
Sinner,  'pent!  He  seen  a  flyin'  snake — 
drefFul  critter  —  twelve  foot  long,  stinger 
'bout  a  feet  long,  eyes  red  like  balls  o'  fire 
from  Pandermonium — O  sinner,  'pent !     My 


UNCLE    BILLY    LEWIS.  Igg 

bowels  yearns  over  you — lookin'  fust  this 
way,  then  t'other,  to  see  what  he  could  see, 
and  a-squallin'  wusser  nur  a  painter — O  sin- 
ner, 'pent ! — ^'pent,  I  tell  you,  else  yer  a  gone 
sucker.  For  sartin  and  for  sure,  ef  he  pops 
his  stinger  inter  you,  yer  gone  world  'thout 
eend,  amen,  'thout  the  benefit  o'  clargy. 

"But,  sinner,  flyin'  snakes  is  mighty  bad  ; 
bad  as  they  is,  howsomever,  'tain't  nothin' 
to  what  Jim  Blevins  seen  arter  that.  '  Jim, 
soon  as  the  flyin'  snake  went  out'n  sight,  he 
run  over  back  o'  Fisher's  Peak,  and — O  my 
soul !  — what  did  he  see  ?  A  yahoo,  sinner — 
a  yahoo !  Jim  hid,  and  it  past  along  close 
by,  and  it  was  high  as  a  house,  horns  ten 
foot  long,  mouf  big  as  a  hogshead — 'pent, 
sinner,  'pent !  It  run  by  Jim,  hollerin'  '  ya- 
hoo !  ya-hoo ! '  louder  nur  cannon  at  the  bat- 
tle o'  Guilford  Court-house,  whar  'Wallis 
was  font  by  Greene.  Jim  says  the  way  he 
kills  folks — sinner,  'pent! — he  gits  you  on 
his  horns,  he  tossee  up — he  tossee  up,  jist 
like  trouncin'  a  bullfrog,  till  life  clean  gone — 
'pent,  sinner,  'pent! — then  he'll  take  you  in 
his  mouf,  and  he'll  lick  you  down  like  a 
hongry  bar  does  a  piece  o'  honey-comb,  as 


154  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

Jim  Blevins  says.  Sinner,  I Ve  warned  you ; 
I'm  clare  o'  yer  blood.  Ef  that  fiyin'  snake 
or  that  yahoo  gits  you,  you  can't  blame  me 
fur  it.  No,  don't  blame  the  old  man  nur 
Jim  Blevins." 

The  above  discourse  came  to  the  ears  of 
Uncle  Billy's  church,  and  they  "called  in 
his  gift."  But  he  never  quit  cutting  out 
mill-stones,  making  tub-mills,  and  hunting 
bees  long  as  his  "head  was  above  the  yeth." 


JOHN    SENTER, 


165 


X.— JOHN  SENTER. 

At  the  mere  mention  of  the  name  of  John 
Senter  I  am  carried  in  a  moment  to  a  little 
farm  near  the  head  of  Little  Fisher's  River, 
upon  which  Fisher's  Peak  looks  doAvn  with 
awful  grandeur  and  majesty.  This  little 
farm  is  divided  by  the  river,  narrow  strips 
of  bottom  land  on  each  side,  and  then  come 
in  abrupt,  steep  hills.  John  Senter  inherit- 
ed this  isolated  piece  of  "yeth*"  from  his  good 
old  father,  Zack  Senter.  In  a  little  cabin 
on  the  side  of  a  steej)  laurel-hill  (and  a  hill 
there  is  a  hill),  on  the  west  side  of  the  river, 
lives  my  friend  John  Senter,  of  happy  mem- 
ory. I  defy  any  man  to  forget  the  place,  or 
the  man  who  owns  it,  after  a  view  of  both. 

When  I  saw  my  friend's  cabin  in  1857,  I 
took  it  to  be  in  size  about  ten  feet  by  eight- 
een ;  the  board  roof  was  fastened  on  by 
"weight-poles,"  somewhat  after  the  Indian 
fashion;   no  "loft"  in  it;    puncheon  floor, 


IQQ  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

split  out  of  trees  with  his  own  hands  ;  chim- 
ney made  of  sticks  and  clay ;  two  or  three 
log  joists  extended  across,  not  above  my 
head,  but  above  the  head  of  John  and  fami- 
ly, for  they  were  "short  stock."  On  these 
joists  were  hung,  by  way  of  ornament  prob- 
ably, and  certainly  for  profit,  some  "pos- 
sum" skins  and  "'coon"  skins,  and  some 
other  fur  skins  too  tedious  to  mention.  I 
was  not  much  pleased  with  their  perfume, 
but  bore  for  half  an  hour  what  they  did  all 
the  time.  The  door,  on  the  down-hill  side 
of  the  "house,"  was  sufficiently  high  to  ad- 
mit a  reasonably  tall  man  without  stooping ; 
but  that  door  was  not  allowed  to  be  used 
then,  for  the  "lower  yard,"  up  to  the  door, 
was  a  fine  green  Irish  potato  patch.  A  lit- 
tle path  led  me  through  a  patch  of  rye  to 
the  "upper  yard,"  which  was  about  three 
feet  wide  of  level  ground,  and  this  narrow 
yard  was  dug  out  of  the  side  of  the  hill.  I 
halted,  and  my  head  was  above  the  eave  of 
the  house.  I  stooped  down  to  look  for  the 
door,  and,  behold,  it  was  there,  about  four 
and  a  half  feet  high — not  an  inch  higher.  I 
saw  John's  good  wife,  Hollin,  daughter  of 


JOHN    SENTER.  157 

Oliver  Stanley,  of  "whale"  and  "bar"  mem- 
ory, busily  engaged  in  sewing,  when  the  fol- 
lowing salutations  were  passed  in  primitive 
style : 

' '  How  do  you  do,  Mrs.  Senter  ?"  I  asked. 

' '  Lausyday,  Hardy !  is  that  you  ?  I  hearn 
you  had  come  back  to  see  yer  old  stompin 
ground.     Come  in." 

" Thank  you, "  I  replied ;  "I  will  if  I  can 
get  in." 

"Stoop  low,  and  you'll  come  it." 

I  obeyed,  went  in,  but  was  greatly  disap- 
pointed in  not  seeing  my  old  friend  John. 
Upon  inquiry,  I  found  he  had  gone  out  that 
day  " harvestin'. "  My  object  was  two-fold: 
to  see  my  old  friend  John  and  family,  and 
to  get  one  of  his  wooden-bottomed  shoes  to 
take  into  my  section  as  a  curiosity  to  proud, 
spendthrift,  "fast"  young  cocksparrows,  and 
to  ultimately  deposit  it  in  some  college  as  a 
monument  to  John's  genius  and  economy, 
and  a  wonder  to  all  beholders.  He  had  in- 
vented and  worn  them  before  I  left  that  sec- 
tion in  1829,  and  I  wished  to  know  whether 
he  wore  them  still. 

"Mrs.  Senter,"  I  inquired,   "does  John 


168  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

wear    his    wooden  -  bottomed    shoes    nowa- 
days?' 

"  Lausy,  yes ;  he  couldn't  live  'thout  'um. 
He  made  me  wear  'um  for  two  long,  tejus 
years ;  but  they  was  so  nation  heavy  I  told 
him,  right  fiatfooted,  I'd  go  barfooted  afore 
I'd   wear   'um,  both    summer    and   winter, 
through  frost  and  snow,  heat  and  cold.     Him 
and  Sol  and  Zack  (his  sons)  wear  'um  still, 
and  will,  I  reckon,  long  as  thar  heads  is 
above  the  yeth,  and  I  wouldn't  be  s'prised 
ef  the  ole  man  had  his'n  buried  with  him." 
"Did  he  wear  them  off  to-day?" 
"No,  not  him;  he  went  barfooted." 
"  Over  the  rocks,  and  in  the  briers  of  the 
harvest-field  V 

"Shucks!   his  feet  is  tough  as  grissle." 
"Will  you  be  so  kind  as  to  let  me  look 
at  them  ?" 

"Sartinly;  but  they're  mighty  odd-look- 
ing critters — jist  like  the  old  man,  though." 
Kind  Hollin  went  to  a  bed,  brought  them 
out,  and  threw  them  down  before  me.  ' '  Take 
care,"  said  she,  "else  they'll  mash  yer  toes 
inter  mince-meat." 

The  admonition  was  a  timely  and  a  benev- 


JOHN    SENTER.  169 

olent  one,  as  the  reader  will  see  by  the  de- 
scription. The  bottoms  were  made  of  "  dog- 
wood," and  where  they  were  not  much  worn 
they  were  an  inch  and  a  half  thick.  In  the 
heels  were  driven  several  large  nails,  resem- 
bling horse-shoe  nails,  of  his  own  make, 
also  one  large  nail  on  the  side  of  the  bottom, 
at  the  "ball"  of  the  foot,  to  answer  the  two- 
fold purpose  of  giving  the  shoe  some  spring 
or  elasticity,  and  to  keep  him  from  slipping 
on  the  mud,  snow,  or  ice.  The  vamps  were 
made  of  tanned  hogskin,  kept  soft  somewhat 
by  "'possum  grease.  The  quarters  were  cow- 
leather  tanned  in  a  log  trough.  Then  there 
were  leggins  of  tanned  buckskin  tacked  on 
to  the  quarters,  that  came  up  the  leg,  to 
keep  out  snow  in  winter,  and  to  ward  off 
snakes  in  summer  when  he  went  hunting,  and 
were  laced  up  with  "whangs."  The  leather 
was  tacked  on  to  the  wooden  bottoms  with 
tacks — nails,  rather — of  his  own  making. 
He  was  too  much  of  an  economist  to  "buy 
tacks  out'n  the  cussed  stores." 

I  was  anxious  to  procure  one  from  Hol- 
lin,  but  could  not,  as  the  reader  will  learn 

from  the  following  brief  dialogue : 
H 


170  FISHER'S    KIVER    SKETCHES. 

"Mrs.  Senter,"  I  inquired,  "can  I  get 
one  of  these  shoes  for  love  or  money  ?  Set 
your  own  price  on  it,  and  the  money  shall 
be  forthcoming." 

"  That  I  won't !  I  know  the  ole  man  too 
well  fur  that.  I  mout  as  well,  and  better 
too,  sell  his  Sunday  furred  hat.  Come  agin 
and  see  him ;  he  mout  let  you  hev  one." 

"It  will  be  out  of  my  power ;  I  must  re- 
turn in  a  day  or  two, "  said  I. 

"Well,  I  knows  what's  what." 

Next  day  I  sent  'Squire  West  Freeman, 
and  he,  by  paying  pretty  dearly  for  it,  pro- 
cured me  one.  Should  any  one  wish  to  see 
said  shoe,  he  can  find  it  labeled  "A  Fisher's 
Kiver  (North  Carolina)  Dancing  Pump, "  and 
deposited  among  the  many  curiosities — and 
the  greatest  curiosity  of  them  all — of  the 
East  Alabama  Baptist  Female  College,  Tus- 
kegee,  Alabama. 

But  this  cabin  and  this  eccentric  wooden- 
bottomed  shoe  have  led  me  astray.  I  must 
return,  and  give  the  reader  some  further 
"insight"  of  friend  John. 

John  Senter  is  about  five  feet  seven  inches 
high,  round-shouldered,  so  much  so  that  he 


JOHN  SENTER.  ]^7j[ 

crosses  his  "galluses"  (leather)  before  and 
behind  to  keep  his  "britches"  on  him,  very 
thin  visaged,  yellow  ' '  pumpkin"  skin,  tough 
and  wrinkled.  His  eyes  are  small  and  scowl- 
ing. His  features  are  hard  and  rigid,  indica- 
tive of  spleen  and  general  suspicion.  His 
beard  is  long,  full  of  dirt  and  "swingle-tow" 
(he  is  a  good  hand  to  break  and  clean  flax). 
His  movements  are  irregular,  sometimes 
rapid,  then  slow  and  thoughtful.  His  im- 
pulses govern  his  movements  in  his  own  per- 
son and  in  his  intercourse  with  others.  His 
dress  is  equal  in  eccentricity  to  his  looks, 
conversation,  and  movements.  His  sum- 
mer hat  is  either  wheat,  rye,  or  oat  straw, 
of  his  own  manufacture  invariably.  His 
winter  hat  is  wool,  bought  from  the  hatter 
with  lambs'  wool.  His  "Sunday  go-to- 
meetin' "  hat  is  an  old-fashioned,  smooth, 
bell-crowned  fur  hat  —  his  wedding  hat, 
doubtless — which  was  purchased  with  'coon, 
rabbit,  mink,  and  musk-rat  skins.  His  ev- 
ery-day  coat  was  a  "round-about,"  striped 
round  like  a  "'coon's"  tail.  For  Sunday 
and  a  "go-abroad"  coat  he  wore  a  striped 
cotton,  sharped,  long,  swallow-tailed    coat. 


172  riSHEE'S   KIVEE    SKETCHES. 

In  winter  he  wore  "britclies"  of  tanned 
sheepskin.  His  "jacket"  was  striped  Tur- 
key red  cotton.  His  shirt  was  tow  and  flax, 
with  the  collar  so  long  that  it  hung  down 
on  his  shoulders  like  the  cape  of  an  old- 
fashioned  "big  coat."  His  shoes  have  been 
already  described. 


THE  TEIAL. 

John  was  very  fond  of  litigation.  With 
him  "to  be  in  law"  was  no  small  idea.  His 
splenetic  nature  naturally  inclined  him  that 
way.  Such  was  his  fondness  for  law  and 
of  his  attendance  upon  justice's  court,  that 
'Squire  Freeman's  wife  would  not  consent 
for  "court"  to  be  held  in  her  house.  She 
had  two  potent  reasons:  first,  all  the  liti- 
gants begaumed  her  house  with  tobacco- 
juice  ;  and,  second,  John's  wooden-bottomed 
shoes,  with  their  horse-shoe  nails,  made  a 
marhed  impression  on  it.  The  "'squire," 
therefore,  held  "court"  in  the  cook-house. 
I  went  into  said  "kitchen"  to  see  the  havoc 
John  had  made  of  the  floor  with  his  shoes, 
and  it  was  as  if  a  fresh-shod  horse,  or  mule, 
rather,  had  been  stabled  in  it. 


JOHN    SENTER.  I73 

To  show  you  John's  fondness  for  law,  I 
will  give  you  one  instance  in  proof.  He 
once  sued  Ben  Carson  on  the  following 
items,  and  had  a  regular  trial : 

Item  1.   One  half  gallon  soap-grease. 

Item  2.   One  half  pint  salt. 

Item  3.   One  half  gallon  sifted  meal. 

Item  4.   Three  plants  of  tobacco. 

Poor  Ben  was  "cast,"  and  'Squire  Free-i 
man  rendered  judgment  in  John's  favor.        i 

THE  WEDDING. 

The  marriage  relation  is  the  most  time- 
honored  institution  in  the  world,  and  God, 
by  making  it  the  first^  has  sufficiently  dem- 
onstrated its  utility.  It  has  withstood  the 
rude  and  cunning  assaults  of  base  men  and 
disorganizers  in  all  ages.  It  has  been  hon- 
ored in  all  nations  from  the  king  down  to 
the  rudest  peasant.  In  the  region  of  which 
I  am  treating  they  strictly  obeyed  the  injunc- 
tion, "  Multiply  and  replenish  the  earth,"  as 
though  it  was  "the  first  commandment  with 
promise. "  They  were  unlike  the  disobedient 
young  people  of  this  age,  who  wait  till  they 
make  a  fortune  before  they  marry ;  they,  like 


174  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

sensible  folks,  married  first,  "  and  scuffled  for 
their  fortins  arterwards. '^  Now  who  can 
blame  their  course  ? 

Now  and  then  we  see  a  hopeless  case — 
one  whom  we  think  never  can  marry.  Na- 
ture, in  her  sovereignty,  has  denied  such  per- 
sons beauty,  talents,  and  wealth.  Their 
chances  for  "holy  wedlock"  would  be  bad 
in  some  cruel,  fastidious  sections ;  not  so  in 
that  section  where  Nature  holds  her  sway 
without  the  artificial  wants  and  rules  of  "re- 
finement." All  marry  there,  whether  they 
have  beauty,  talents,  or  wealth.  There  ap- 
pears to  be  a  sort  of  happy  destiny,  in  this 
respect,  for  them  all.  They  may  be  shaped 
like  fat-stands  or  look  like  toys,  it  is  all  the 
same,  they  marry. 

Of  course,  John  Senter's  children  must 
not  be  an  exception — they  must  marry. 
Now  it  came  to  pass  that  his  son  Sol  took 
it  into  his  head  to  marry.  Dwarfish-look- 
ing and  crippled  as  he  was,  he  came  to  the 
rational  conclusion,  "  It  is  not  good  for  man 
to  be  alone, "  in  a  section,  too,  where  marry- 
ing was  so  popular  and  fashionable. 

It  was  not  difficult  for  him  to  find  a  per- 


JOHN    SENTER.  I75 

son  of  like  feeling  in  Sally  Spencer,  daugh- 
ter of  Polly  Spencer,  who  lived  in  the  face 
of  the  Blue  Ridge,,  near  the  Blaze  Spur.  In 
addition  to  their  warm  affection  for  each 
other,  an  accident  to  each  one  had  increased 
their  attachment.  Sol  had  had  a  white-swell- 
ing in  his  right  leg,  which  had  lamed  him  for 
life,  and  Sally's  left  leg  had  been  broken, 
which  made  her  equally  lame.  It  looked 
like  a  bad  chance  for  a  support,  for,  in  addi- 
tion to  these  mishaps,  they  were  as  poor  as 
"Job's  turkey."  But  they  loved  each  oth- 
er, and  were  willing  to  link  their  destiny  to- 
gether, and  "take  one  another  better  fur 
wusser  and  wusser  fur  better, "  in  the  graphic 
language  of  Bob  Snipes,  who  shall  tell  the 
story  of  their  wedding.  Said  Bob  Snipes 
is  a  plain-spoken  fellow,  and  tells  stories  in 
his  own  way. 

"Now  I  was  a-workin'  fur  'Squire  Free- 
man one  flinderin  hot  day,"  said  Bob,  "and 
who  should  I  see  but  Sol  Senter  come  hop- 
a-kickin'  along  over  the  plowed  yeth,  through 
the  cornfield,  throwin'  his  game  leg  around 
like  a  reap-hook,  and  when  he  come  up  to 
the  'squire  and  me  he  was  sweatin'  like  a 


176  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

coal-kill.  Says  I,  '  Sol,  don't  knock  down 
all  the  corn  with  that  reap-hook  leg  o'  yourn. ' 
He  nuver  said  a  word  to  me,  but  buckled  up 
to  the  'squire,  like  a  little  dog  does  to  a  big 
one  when  he  wants  to  show  out,  and,  says 
he, 

"''Squire,  I's  come  to  swap  work  with 
you.  Times  is  so  hard,  and  I  want's  to 
work  a  day  or  two  fur  you  to  go  as  fur  as 
dad's  to  marry  me.  I  won't  ax  you  to  go 
as  fur  as  Sally's  house,  which  you  know  is 
three  miles  above  dad's  ;  but  jist  go  to  dad's, 
and  I'll  go  and  fetch  Sally  down  thar.  It 
shall  never  be  said  that  Sol  Senter  got  'Squire 
Freeman  to  marry  him  fur  nothin',  and  it 
mout  be  swappin'  work  mout  do  jist  as  well. ' 

"When  Sol  eended  his  speech,  he  looked 
'mazin'  anxious  to  hear  what  the  'squire'd 
say.  The  'squire  was  a  monstrous  'commer- 
datin'  man,  and,  says  he,  '  Good  as  wheat  in 
the  mill-hopper,  Sol ;  work  for  me  a  day, 
and  keep  up  with  Bob  Snipes'  (here  the 
'squire  gin  me  the  wink),  'and  I'll  go.' 

"I'll  be  dinged  ef,  when  the  'squire  said 
that,  Sol  didn't  look  as  big  as  Nibuchadnee- 
zer  and  as  rich  as  Festus ;    and,  thinks  I, 


JOHN    SENTER  177 

'Ef  you  keep  up  with  me  (I  was  a-hoein"' 
corn),  youll  not  be  fit  to  marry  ('twas  orful 
hot)  soon.'  s 

"The  little  feller  catched  holt  of  a  hoe, 
and  at  it  we  went  like  a  wliirlygust  uv  wood- 
peckers. I  tell  you  the  train-ile  streamed 
out'n  both  on  us ;  but  Sol  buckled  up  ter 
me  like  a  man.  The  thoughts  o'  marryin' 
steamed  him  up  like  a  blowed-up  bladder. 
It's  anuff  to  say  that  we  went  it  like  blazes 
fur  a  whole  day,  and  nuver  did  the  'squire 
have  as  many  weeds  killed  in  one  day  by 
two  mortals,  and  one  on  'um  a  little  game- 
leg,  taller-face,  ill-begotten,  turkey-trotten' 
creetur. 

"The  work  over,  Sol  he  fixed  his  day,  and 
axed  me  to  his  weddin',  to  come  with  the 
'squire.  Says  he,  '  Come,  and  as  I've  showed 
you  how  I  kin  work,  I'll  show  yer  how  I 
kin  marry  too ;  and  I'll  show  yer  the  pur- 
tyest  gal  in  the  whole  face  uv  the  Blue 
Hidge,  ur  in  any  o"*  the  knobs  around  about. ' 

"'Look  out  fur  me,'  says  I,  'fur  Bob 

Snipes  nuver  takes  a  banter  from  no  one, 

man  nur  'omun.' 

"The    'squire    and    me    started    tolluble 
H2 


178  FISHER'S   RIVER   SKETCHES. 

yearly  one  mornin',  intendin'  to  take  ur  time 
fur  it  in  the  cool  uv  the  day.  We  had  to 
walk,  fur  narry  a  man  on  God's  green  yeth 
could  git  to  John  Senter's  a  hossback,  it 
is  so  shot  up  with  hills  and  blocked  wid 
fences.  "We  tuck  right  up  Little  Fish  E,o  ov- 
er (the  'squire  lives  on  it,  well  as  John)  till 
we  come  to  whar  Maid  Holder  was  a-plow- 
in\  and  ding  my  skin  ef  he  warn't  a-plowin' 
in  his  shirt-tail,  'thout  anuther  thing  on 
him,  'ceptin'  his  old  greasy  wool  hat.  Says 
Maid, 

"  '  Give  an  account  of  yerselves.  Whar's 
yer  pass?  What  you  trespassin'  on  my 
deadnin'  fur?  Whar  you  moseyin'  to? 
Bob  Snipes,  what  you  dressed  up  in  the 
week  fur  fine  as  the  'squire  ?  Speak,  else 
I'll  larrup  you  both,' 

"We  had  to  satisfy  the  outdacious  var- 
munt,  and  axed  him  to  go  with  us.  Says 
he,  '  I'll  go,  ef  you'll  jist  let  me  go  as  I  am.' 
'In  yer  shirt-tail?'  says  I.  'Yes,'  says  he. 
'  Not  I,  long  as  yer  shirt-tail  is, '  says  I ; 
and  it  was  one  uv  the  most  onconcionable 
long  shirt-tails  I  uver  seen.  It  come  down 
a  long  gap  below  his  knees. 


JOHN    SENTER,  179 

"We  left  Maid  gee-hawin'  away,  and 
piked  on  to  John's.  We  went  in,  and  thar 
sot  John  on  a  short-legged  stool  in  the  chim- 
bly  corner,  lookin'  fur  all  the  world  like  a 
man  that  had  got  out'n  his  bed  wrong  eend 
foremost  that  mornin'.  He  was  sulky  and 
ashy,  I  tell  you.  He  hardly  axed  us  to  set 
down.  The  'squire  kep'  axin'  John  ques- 
tions, to  try  to  git  him  to  spill  some  words, 
but  his  jaws  were  locked,  as  it  were.  Hollin 
and  his  darter  was  a-fixin'  away,  sorter  like 
they  was  glad,  but  uvry  now  and  then  John 
kep'  flingin'  out  some  uv  his  slang  at  'um 
'fur  fixin""  so  much  fur  them  crij)pled  cree- 
turs,  that  had  'bout  as  much  business  a-mar- 
ryin'  as  two  'possums.' 

"The  'squire  he  made  him  hush  his  foul 
jaw,  but  he  sot  watchin'  Hollin  and  the  lit- 
tle darter,  and  got  madder  and  madder, 
swellin'  like  a  bullfrog.  Last  he  riz  right 
smack  up,  and,  says  he,  '  I  wouldn't  be  a-fix- 
in' so  much  fur  a  couple  uv  ground-hogs, 
heffer-on-my-haslit  ef  I  would.'  He  looked 
like  he  could  a  made  a  meal  out'n  a  kag  uv 
tenpenny  nails,  fur  all  the  world. 

"He   then    moseyed   off  to    a  bed,  and 


180  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES, 

drawed  out  from  under  it  a  whoppin'  big 
gourd,  with  a  great  big  corn-cob  stopper  in 
it.  He  sot  it  on  the  table,  got  a  pewter  cup, 
pulled  out  the  stopper,  and  'chug^  it  went 
as  it  come  out.  I  soon  larned  from  the 
smell  on  it  that  it  was  apple  brandy,  and 
white-faced  at  that.  He  poured  out  a  cup- 
ful, and  gin  it  to  the  'squire  fust,  who  bussed 
the  cup  a  little,  and  then  I  bussed  it.  John 
he  bussed  it,  and  kep'  a-bussin'  it  wusser  nur 
a  man  would  a  purty  gal,  till  he  got  in  a 
monstrus  good  humor.  I  was  mighty  glad 
to  see  the  refect  the  ole  white-face  brandy 
had  upon  him,  fur  I  was  nation  tired  uv  his 
snaps  and  snarls. 

"  Jist  as  John  had  got  in  a  good  humor 
from  bussin'  Mrs.  Whiteface,  and  had  begun 
to  spill  his  words  right  fast,  we  looked  up 
the  hill  toward  the  Blue  Ridge,  and  we  sees 
Sol  and  Sally,  dressed  in  thar  best,  a-comin' 
down  the  hill  afoot,  side  and  side,  and  the  old 
lady  a-traipin'  along  arter  'um,  Sol  throwin' 
his  game  leg  round  one  way,  from  right  to 
left,  and  Sal  a-throwin'  hern  around  t'other 
way,  from  left  ter  right.  They  kep'  good 
time.     Sal's   mammy  looked   mighty  loon- 


JOHN    SENTER,  lg3 

some  bringin'  up  the  rear.  They  came  in, 
sat  down,  and  John — ding  him !  —  peared  to 
be  as  glad  to  see  'um  as  any  on  us. 

"  Soon  as  they  had  blowed  a  little  (it  was 
dingnation  hot),  and  had  wijDed  the  train-ile 
out'n  thar  eyes,  the  'squire  he  tied  the  Goug- 
in  knot"  (the  Gordian  knot,  I  suppose  Bob 
meant),  "and  we  all  wished  'um  much  joy, 
John  'mong  the  rest.  (I  wanted  to  knock 
him  down,  arter  doin'  as  he  had  done.) 
The  corn-cob  stopper  was  pulled  out'n  the 
gourd,  'chug,'  agin  and  agin,  and  we  kep' 
bussin'  the  pewter  cup,  and  we  chatted  away 
like  blackbirds,  'ceptin'  the  'squire,  with  'bout 
as  much  sense. 

"Dinner  cumed  next.  The  pot  hadn't 
bin  idle  all  the  time ;  it  kep'  bilin'  away, 
pottle,  wottle,  pottle,  wottle.  Hollin  she 
sot  the  table  along  side  uv  the  bed,  to  sarve 
in  the  place  uv  chairs  on  one  side,  and  a 
long  bench  on  t'other  side,  and  a  short  bench 
on  each  eend.  It  was  one  of  these  here 
cross-leg  tables — none  uv  yer  quality  cuts. 
John  Senter  was  none  uv  yer  quality  men ; 
he  opposed  and  hated  all  quality  idees ;  nor 
would  he  'low  a  quality  dinner.    He  wouldn't 


134  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES, 

low  but  one  dish,  ef  the  'squire  was  thar. 
He  wouldn't  have  a  pie,  nur  a  puddin',  nur 
nuthin'  o'  the  sort.  Hollin  she  tuck  up  the 
dinner,  and  ding  my  skin  ef  it  warn't  a  sure- 
anuff  dinner.  Thar  was  a  great  big  pewter 
dish  full  uv  stewed  chicken  and  rye  dump- 
lin's,  with  chunks  uv  bacon  mixed  up,  anuff 
to  sorter  season  it.  The  rye  dumplin's,  some 
on  'um,  was  as  big  as  corn-dodgers,  and  some 
on  'um,  which  the  seasonin*'  hadn't  toch,  was 
tough  as  whitleather,  and  you  mout  a  knock- 
ed a  bull  down  with  'um.  But,  howsomev- 
er,  as  Mrs.  Whiteface,  who  dwelt  in  the 
gourd,  had  whettened  our  appetites,  we  done 
monstrus  well. 

"When  dinner  was  over,  the  'squire  and 
me  thought  fur  decency's  sake  we  wouldn't 
leave  right  oiF,  so  we  sot  a  little  while ;  but 
we  soon  seen  that  John — ding  him! — was 
a-gittin'  monstrus  onpatient.  He  kep'  friv- 
itin'  about.  Mrs.  Whiteface  had  died  away 
in  him,  and,  ding  him !  he  was  too  stingy  to 
buss  her  any  more,  and  the  evil  sjDerrit  come 
on  him  agin.  Last  he  walled  up  his  eyes, 
and  baAvled  out,  '  You  Zack !  (his  other  son), 
you  Zack ! '     '  Here ! '  says  Zack.      '  You  go 


JOHN    SENTER,  185 

and  gear  up  that  bull'  (John  allers  plowed 
a  bull ;  he  wouldn't  hev  a  horse),  '  and  you 
go  to  plowin',  and  111  go  to  hoein'.  Heffer- 
on-my-haslit  ef  it'll  do  to  be  wastin'  so  much 
time  a-weddinin'. ' 

"Arter  this  speech  the  'squire  and  me 
left." 

And  this  is  as  much  space  as  I  can  allow 
my  old  friend  John  Senter.  If  all  his  rich 
sayings  and  eccentric  doings  were  written 
out,  they  would  fill  quite  a  volume.  Now 
the  rest  of  the  acts  of  John  Senter,  all  that 
he  said  and  did,  how  he  made  wooden-bot- 
tomed shoes,  how  he  worked  in  the  harvest 
fields  barefooted,  how  he  lawed  the  people  at 
the  justice's  courts,  how  he  loved  apple  bran- 
dy, and  danced  the  "double  shuffle,"  etc., 
etc.,  are  they  not  written  in  the  memory  of 
all  who  know  him  ? 

He  has  not  yet  slept  with  his  fathers. 


IQQ  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 


XI.— REV.  CHARLES  GENTRY. 

I  MUST  not  entirely  omit  the  negroes,  as 
some  of  them  were  men  of  renown.  I  have 
made  honorable  mention  of  "Gingy-cake 
Josh  Easley."  What  the  people  would 
have  done  for  "gingy- cakes"  at  their  mus- 
ters and  public  gatherings  I  can  not  tell,  had 
it  not  been  for  clever  Josh.  Josh  was  re- 
spected by  all,  white  and  black.  His  mas- 
ter moved  to  Missouri,  and  there  Josh  died. 
He  used  to  keep  us  all  alive  singing  corn 
songs  at  "  corn-shuckings. " 

I  could  mention  many  good  and  clever  ne- 
groes, but  will  only  pay  my  respects  to  Rev. 
Charles  Gentry.  Charles  was  a  Baptist 
preacher,  and  belonged  to  "Shelt  Gentry." 
His  master  and  mistress  were  Baptists,  and 
Charles  was  quite  a  privileged  character. 
Next  to  Bev.  Pleasant  Cocker,  Charles  stood 
highest  in  their  estimation.  He  was  not 
without  "gifts,"  nor  was  he  destitute  of  a 


REV.  CHARLES    GENTRY.  Ig7 

proper  amount  of  vanity.  As  to  grammar,  if 
he  ever  heard  of  it,  he  had  no  use  for  it,  not 
he.  His  theology  was  not  always  sound, 
yet  a  good  deal  of  it  was  quite  original,  as 
the  two  extracts  from  his  sermons  which  I 
shall  give  the  reader  will  abundantly  prove. 
Rev.  Charles  had  sl  penchant  for  controversy, 
and  was  often  running  up  against  established 
views,  and  upsetting  them  by  the  force  of 
his  cataract  voice  and  rail-mauling  gestures, 
if  not  by  argument. 

Naturalists  have  for  ages  been  trying  to 
account  for  the  different  forms  and  complex- 
ions of  men.  Some  will  have  them  to  be  of 
different  races,  not  all  descended  from  the 
same  pair,  Adam  and  Eve.  Others  contend 
that  all  have  descended  from  the  same  pair, 
but  climate  and  accidental  causes  have  made 
the  difference ;  hence  Professor  A  and  Pro- 
fessor B  have  their  diverse  theories  and  their 
disciples  and  admirers.  When  men  leave 
the  plain  teachings  of  the  Bible  and  go  into 
vague  speculations,  one  man's  hypothesis  is 
nearly  as  good  as  another ""s. 


188  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 


THE  ORIGIN  OF  THE  WHITES. 

"^  I  will  now  give  my  readers  a  new  theory 
from  the  lips  (for  negroes  do  not  write)  of 
the  Rev.  Charles  Gentry,  and  commend  it  to 
the  consideration  of  Professor  Agassiz  and 
Dr.  Nott.  The  Rev.  Charles  Gentry  was 
"  explanifying"  to  his  "bredderin  ob  color*" 
how  the  first  white  man  came  into  existence. 
He  held  forth  on  this  wise : 

"Beloved  bredderin,  de  white  folks  ar 
clean  out  of  it  when  dey  "'firm  dat  de  fust 
man  was  a  white  man.  I'm  not  a-gwine  to 
hab  any  sich  doctering.  De  fact  is,  Adam, 
Cain,  Abel,  Seth,  was  all  ob  'um  black  as 
jet.  Now  you  'quire  how  de  white  man 
cum.  Why,  dis  a-way.  Cain  he  kill  his 
brudder  Abel  wid  a  great  big  club — he  walk- 
in'-stick — and  God  he  cum  to  Cain,  and  say, 
'  Cain !  where  is  dy  brudder  Abel  T  Cain 
he  pout  out  de  lip,  and  say,  '  I  don't  know ; 
what  ye  axin'  me  fur  ?  I  ain't  my  brudder 
Abel's  keeper.'  De  Lord  he  gits  in  airnest, 
and  stomps  on  de  ground,  and  say,  '  Cain  ! 
you  Cain !    whar  is  dy  brudder  Abel  ?     I 


REV.  CHARLES    GENTRY.  I39 

say,  Cain !  whar  is  dy  brudder  V  Cain  he 
turn  white  as  bleach  cambric  in  de  face,  and 
de  whole  race  ob  Cain  dey  bin  white  ebber 
since.  De  mark  de  Lord  put  on  de  face  ob 
Cain  was  a  white  mark.  He  druv  him  inter 
de  land  ob  Nod,  and  all  de  white  folks  hab 
cum  frum  de  land  ob  Nod,  jis"*  as  youVe 
hearn.'"'  ^ 

V,  JONAH  AND  THE  WHALE. 

Some  divines,  to  pacify  infidels  and  skep- 
tics, and  make,  as  they  suppose,  the  Bible 
more  acceptable  to  them,  have  a  knack  of 
explaining  the  miraculous  truths  of  the  Bi- 
ble on  natural  principles  and  according  to 
the  teachings  of  human  wisdom,  and  their 
preaching  and  expositions  are,  to  say  the 
least  of  it,  semi-infidelic.  Bev.  Charles  Gen- 
try had  heard  one  of  those  preachers  some- 
where who  explained  all  miracles  according 
to  natural  sequences.  Charles  had  any 
amount  of  ambition,  and  wished  to  show  his 
"larnin'"  in  the  same  way.  Accordingly, 
at  his  next  appointment,  he  delivered  a 
learned  dissertation  on  Jonah  and  the  whale. 
He  held  his  audience  "spellbound"  for  some 


190  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

time,  but  I  can  only  give  the  narrative  part 
of  the  able  discourse.     It  was  as  follows : 

"Dearly  beloved  brudderin,  dar  is  much 
said  about  dis  Jonah  and  de  whale  business ; 
a  heap  a-spoutin'  about  it,  tryin'  to  outspout 
de  whale  hisself ;  but  one  half  on  'um  don't 
know  what  dey  talkin'  'bout ;  dis  chile  does, 
howsomeber,  'bout  de  whole  matter.  Den 
listen,  dat  ye  may  hear.  Well,  Jonah  he 
tries  to  git  away  from  de  Lord,  and  he  gits 
in  a  ship — a  big  un,  too — and  tinks  dat  is 
de  place  fur  him ;  but  he  miss  him  fur  as  ef 
he'd  a  burnt  he  shirt.  Dar  Jonah  he  lie 
snug  in  de  ship  as  a  flea  under  a  nigger's 
shirt  collar.  But,  bless  you,  brudderin !  de 
Lord  he  raise  a  mighty  whirlygust,  and  de 
ship  he  rock  to  and  fro  like  a  drunkard 
man.  De  men  dey  guess  what  was  de  mat- 
ter, and  dey  cum  and  take  Jonah  by  de  nap. 
o'  de  neck  and  de  hind  part  o'  de  britches, 
and  swing  him  backuds  and  foruds ;  last  dey 
pitch  him  head  foremost,  co-souse^  inter  de 
sea. 

"De  whirlygust  he  stop  right  smack. 
But,  bless  de  Lord !  whar  Jonah  ?  A  great 
big  fish  he  cum  up  and  lick  him  down  like 


REV.  CHARLES    GENTRY.  XQl 

salt — hardly  a  bug  moufful  fur  sich  a  big 
whoppin  feller.  Jonah,  when  he  gits  down 
inter  de  paunch  o'  de  fish,  he  squawks  out, 
'  O  Lord,  what  hab  I  done  T  De  fish  he  say, 
'Hush  yer  mouf!'  And  de  fish  he  swim, 
swim,  swim,  and  kep'  a-swimmin',  and  Jonah 
he  bawls  out  de  same  ting.  De  fish  he  gits 
more  in  airnest,  and  say,  '  Hush  yer  mouf,  I 
tell  yer!'  and  on  he  swim,  swim,  swim,  till 
he  cum  to  de  Luxine  Sea,  as  de  white  folk 
call  him,  but  I  call  him  Black  Sea,  'caze  he's 
black  as  jet,  like  a  nigger. 

"But  pardon  dis  'gression. 

"When  de  fish  he  gits  inter  de  Persian 
Gulf,  near  de  mouf  ob  de  old  Euphrates, 
Jonah  he  gits  mighty  restless,  and  cries  out 
agin,  '  O  Lord,  what  hab  I  done  T  De  fish 
he  tell  him  to  hush  agin.  No  use ;  Jonah 
he  holler  louder  and  louder.  De  fish  no 
mind  him.  Now  Jonah  he  hab  mighty 
sharp  finger-nails,  and  he  use  'um  good,  I 
tell  yer.  He  begin  ter  claw  and  scratch  the 
fish's  paunch,  'tarmined  to  git  out'n  dar. 
De  fish  he  gits  sick  in  de  craw,  and  he  swim, 
swim,  swim  right  fur  land,  'tarmined  to  throw 
him  up  to  dry.     And,  sure  'nufF,  he  gin  one 


292  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

great  big  hee-oh,  and  out  cum  Jonah  right 
on  de  flat  of  he  back  on  de  bank. 

''  De  Lord  he  say  to  him,  '  Gwine  to  preach 
now,  Jonah?'  Jonah  he  say,  'Yes,  Lord, 
dat  I  will !'  and  off  he  moseyed  to  Nineveh, 
and  done  some  ob  de  biggest  preachin'  ye 
ubber  hearn  tell  on.  Dis,  brudderin  and 
sisterin,  is  de  true  varsion  ob  Jonah  and  de 
whale.  All  de  rest  is  false,  and  rotten  as 
mud."    , 


FIGHTING.  193 


XII.— FIGHTING. 

JOSH   JONES   AND   HASH-HEAD   SMITH. 

Josh  Jones  and  Hash-head  Smith  were 
both  men  of  renown  in  this  belligerent  and 
romantic  section.  They  made  their  mark 
upon  their  generation,  in  fist-fighting  and 
scratching,  if  in  nothing  else.  Josh  had 
picked  up  a  few  Latin  sentences  and  phrases, 
and  could  use  them  when  he  chose  with 
great  facility  and  dexterity.  The  people  all 
hated  "  larnin'  and  college  lingo,"  and 
though  Josh's  vernacular  was  no  better  than 
his  neighbors' ;  nevertheless,  his  borrowed 
Latin  made  him  quite  a  "larned  man."  He 
had  the  art  of  having  his  comrades  in  a  fine 
glee  in  one  moment,  and  "all  to  ilindera- 
tions"  the  next,  "fightin'  rantankerus  mad." 
He  was  the  most  popular  and  agreeable  man 
in  the  crowd  till  his  mischievous  propensity 
forced  him  to  blurt  out,  ^^ e pluribus  unum,'''' 
''''ipse  dixit^'^  ^^  sine  qua  non^''''  ^''sic  transit 
I 


194  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

gloria  mundi^''''  etc.,  and  it  was  as  if  you  had 
assaulted  a  ball-hornet's  nest. 

Our  friend  Smith  was  a  chunky,  well-set, 
muscular  man,  with  a  large  buffy  head,  so 
large  and  destitute  of  brains  that  Martin 
Falkner,  a  shrewd  wag,  gave  him  the  name 
of  "Hash-head  Smith,"  though  he  was  ver- 
itably John  Smith.  Hash-head  differed  from 
most  fleshy  men,  who  are  said  to  be  good- 
natured,  for  he  was  quite  sensitive,  ill-na- 
tured, and  hated  Josh's  "  dog  Lating,"  as  he 
termed  his  small  stock  of  Roman.  Josh 
Jones  took  great  delight  in  teasing  Hash- 
head.  They  were  quite  different  men  in 
most  things,  but  in  their  love  of  old  peach 
brandy  they  were  "hail  fellows  well  met." 

Now  it  came  to  pass,  in  the  course  of  hu- 
man events,  that  both  of  our  heroes  had 
some  business  at  Grayson  Court-house,  Vir- 
ginia, and  on  their  return  they  called  at  the 
house  of  an  old  Quaker  by  the  name  of 
South,  who,  notwithstanding  his  rigid  mor- 
als in  most  things,  kept  good  brandies  of  all 
kinds,  "perticler  the  best  old  peach  on  the 
face  uv  the  yeth."  They  called  for  it,  and, 
in  the  expressive  language  of  Josh,  who  was 


FIGHTING.  ]_95 

always  graphic  in  speech — truly  so  when  in- 
spired with  "old  peach"— they  "smote  it 
hip  and  thigh  with  the  edge  uv  the  sword, 
like  unto  Samson  smitin'  the  plaguy  Philis- 
tines at  E,amoth-lehi  with  the  jaw-bone  of  a 
jackass,  as  saith  the  book  of  Judges." 

Under  the  exhilarating  influence  of  the 
Quaker's  old  peach.  Josh  soon  began  to  roll 
out  his  Latin  freely  and  fluently,  and  Hash- 
head  "got  ashy."  But  Josh  intended  to 
have  some  fun,  and  kept  on.  Hash-head 
considered  himself  degraded  in  the  presence 
of  the  old  Quaker  and  his  wife  by  Josh's  su- 
perior learning.  He  took  it  as  a  gross  in- 
sult, and  "walked  into  Josh  right  smack  in 
old  South's  house. "  I  will  let  Josh  describe 
the  rest  of  the  scene  in  his  own  style. 

"Now  I  were  detarmined  to  wake  up 
those  two  demure  old  Quakers,  old  Mr.  and 
old  Miss  South,  who  sot  thar,  and  would  only 
say  '  yea'  and  '  nay'  to  evry  word  I'd  say  to 
'um.  They  paid  no  more  attention  to  my 
Lating  than  to  a  blackbird  a-chatterin' ;  so 
Hash-head  I  seen  was  my  on'y  chance.  I 
kep'  poking  my  old  Roman  at  him  thick  and 
heavy,  and  he  soon  flew  all  to  flinderations. 


196  FISHER'S   RIVER    SKETCHES. 

But  I  salted  him  wusser  and  wusser,  and  the 
fust  thing  I  knowed  he  struck  me,  co-diff^ 
right  plum  between  the  eyes,  with  his  maul- 
bustin  fist,  quick  as  a  ball -hornet,  and 
sprawled  me  on  the  floor  full  length.  I  riz, 
and  at  it  we  went  like  blue  blazes.  We 
tuck  it  best  six  out'n  eleven,  upsettin'  chairs, 
tables,  and  furniter  of  evry  natur  all  over 
the  house,  hither  and  thither.  The  two  old 
Quakers  looked  at  us  as  though  they  blieved 
the  sperrit  uv  the  devil  were  turned  loose, 
which  were  a  fact,  fur  Quakers  is  disarners 
uv  sperrit s. 

"I  soon  seen  that  Hash-head  would  git 
my  note  ef  I  didn't  play  some  game  on  him, 
fur  he  were  feedin'  me  in  the  short  ribs  in 
double  quick  time.  I  had  seen  before  the 
scrimmage  begun  a  big  whoppin  churn  o' 
cream  settin'  on  the  ha'th  by  the  fire,  and  the 
thought  entered  my  pate,  nolens  volens,  that 
I'd  throw  Hash-head  by  that  churn  o'  cream, 
and  turn  it  over  in  his  face,  and  git  out'n 
the  scrape  ef  possible,  fur  I  were  shoved  fur 
the  rent.  I  made  a  desput  grab,  and  we  fell 
side  and  side  by  said  churn  jist  norated,  and 
I  turned  it  over  right  smack  in  his  face,  co- 


FIGHTING.  197 

whollop,  right  in  his  eyes  and  mouth.  This 
sine  qua  non  had  the  desired  effect.  He 
broke  his  holt  as  quick  as  when  you  souse  a 
bucket  uv  cold  water  on  two  bull-dogs 
a-fightin\  I  jumped  up,  but  thar  lay  Hash- 
head,  lickin'  out  his  tongue,  fust  on  one  side 
then  on  t'other,  tastin'  old  Miss  South's  yal- 
ler  cream. 

"The  next  thing  I  seen  was  old  Miss 
South,  with  hands  and  eyes  turned  up  to'ads 
the  good  world,  which  I  reckon  she  were 
Vokin'  the  sperrits  uv  Fox,  Barclay,  and 
Penn  to  cum  to  her  relief  and  take  signul 
vengunce,  Deo  volente^  on  me  fur  the  loss  uv 
her  cream.  And  lest  she  mout  be  hearn, 
and  fur  fear  Hash-head,  arter  he  had  got  the 
cream  out'n  his  eyes  and  mouth,  and  his  bel- 
ly full  on  it,  which  he  were  hidin'  it  mighty 
fast,  mout  wade  into  me  agin,  I  sloped, 
jumped  on  my  hoss,  darted  down  the  Blue 
Ridge  at  the  Blaze  Spur,  and  was  soon  in 
good  old  Surry." 

BUTTING. 

Fighting  in  that  section  was  a  common 
occurrence.     No  pistols,  knives,  sticks,  and 


198  FISHER'S    RIVER   SKETCHES. 

cowardly  weapons,  such  as  are  now  used, 
were  resorted  to ;  they  scorned  all  such  as 
beneath  brave  men.  Only  such  weapons  as 
Nature  had  given  them  would  they  use  in 
attack  and  in  defense.  They  would  knock 
with  their  fists  like  a  Milo,  kick  with  their 
feet  like  a  horse,  bite  like  loggerhead  turtles, 
^^  gouge  like  screw-augers,  and  butt  like  rams ; 
any  method  with  the  body  was  lawful.  Bul- 
lies would  keep  their  thumb-nails  oiled  and 
trimmed  as  sharp  as  hawk's  claws.  Ask 
them  why,  they  would  reply, 

"To  feel  fur  a  feller's  eye-strings,  and 
make  him  tell  the  news." 

As  you  passed  houses  going  home  from 
musters  and  public  gatherings,  those  who 
did  not  go  (and  they  were  not  numerous) 
would  accost  you  thus :  ' '  Who  font  to-day  V 
If  you  replied,  "No  one,"  there  was  evi- 
dently a  disappointment.  As  Johnson 
Snow  believed  and  expressed  it,  "That  a 
good  deal  uv  shoutin'  and  groanin'  went  a 
great  ways  towards  settin'  off  a  meetin',"  it 
Avas  the  common  belief  of  that  pugilistic 
people  "that  a  great  deal  of  knockin',  kick- 
in',  bitin',  gougin',  and  buttin'  went  a  good 


FIGHTING,  201 

ways  towards  settin'  off  a  muster  or  public 
gathering." 

Sometimes  a  fight  would  come  off  at  a 
"corn-shucking."  On  such  an  occasion  Pey- 
ton Tally  and  Henry  Muneas  fell  out  and 
"font."  It  was  a  short  fight,  for  they  were 
no  sooner  stripped,  in  the  "ring,"  and  the 
word  given,  than  Peyton  backed  a  little,  and 
went  at  Henry  old  ram  or  old  goat  fashion, 
full  tilt,  struck  him  in  the  stomach  with  his 
head,  "laid  him  to  the  land,"  and  had  well- 
nigh  made  a  "finish  of  him."  The  by- 
standers did  not  like  such  a  short  fight,  and 
remonstrated  with  Peyton,  who  coolly  re- 
plied, 

"  111  be  dadsamped  ef  one  good  butt  ain't 
wuth  two  knocks.  It  knocks  the  wind  oufn 
you  quick  as  thunder.  Thar  is  great  need 
fur  the  camphire  bottle  when  you  take  it 
ram-fashion.  Dadsamp  ef  his  innards  won't 
trouble  him  fur  a  'coon's  age.  His  Avife  and 
chillun  will  har'ly  know  him  when  they  see 
him.  Hell  not  be  so  pot-gutted  in  the  fu- 
tur,  I  reckon." 

I  2 


202  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 


A  QUAETER-Or-A-DOLLAR  FIGHT. 

Speaking  of  the  foregoing  hutting  fight 
reminds  me  of  a  sharp  fight  between  Sam 
Clark  and  Jim  Smith,  son  of  the  renowned 
Hash-head  Smith,  about  a  quarter  of  a  dol- 
lar— no  more  nor  no  less. 

The  people  in  that  region  were  scrupu- 
lously honest — more  so  than  any  section  I 
have  ever  seen.  They  lived  remote  from 
commerce,  with  its  corruptions,  and  there 
was  not  fleece  enough  in  all  the  land  for 
sharpers  to  come  in  to  corrupt  their  morals. 
Not  even  a  wooden-nutmeg  Yankee  could 
make  any  thing  from  off  them.  They  knew 
nothing  but  downright  honesty.  A  man 
who  would  not  pay  a  debt  to  the  amount  of 
five  cents  was  scouted  and  despised  most 
cordially.  A  man  was  never  known  to 
"make  over  his  property."  He  had  to  pay 
the  "utmost farthing,""  else  public  sentiment 
collared  him.  If  a  man's  honesty  was  im- 
peached, there  was  a  fight,  unless  it  was 
"taken  back."" 

Now  it  came  to  pass  in  a  settlement  be- 


FIGHTING  203 

tween  Sam  Clark  and  Jim  Smith  there  was 
a  misunderstanding  about  a  quarter  of  a  dol- 
lar. At  Shipp's  Muster-ground,  the  "pot- 
ter's field"  of  that  country,  the  subject  was 
brought  up  for  settlement  while  they  were 
both  pretty  full  of  "  knock-'em-stiff. "  They 
couldn't  settle  it,  and  they  "  drawed  thar  lin- 
nin"  to  settle  the  important  contest.  Their 
friends  hated  to  see  them  fight  about  so  tri- 
fling a  thing,  and  Miller  W.  Easley,  a  friend 
to  both,  offered  to  pay  the  quarter.  But 
nay ;  their  honor  was  involved  in  it,  and  the 
honor  of  "thar  chillun,"  and  they  were  de- 
termined to  settle  it  on  the  Fisher's  Kiver 
field  of  honor  (Shipp's  Muster-ground),  and 
with  Fisher's  River  weapons. 

They  made  a  ring,  "moseyed"  into  it,  and 
no  cool  man — one  who  had  the  least  sym- 
pathy for  his  tabernacle — would  have  taken 
the  knocks,  kicks,  bites,  gougings,  battings, 
etc.,  that  were  given  and  received  by  those 
two  duelists  for  a  trifle.  After  they  had 
beaten  each  other  into  a  "frozzle,"  and 
"inter  mince-meat,"  they  were  parted  by 
their  "seconds,"  and,  having  vindicated 
their  insulted  honor,  the  matter  was  adjust- 


204  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

ed  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  belligerent  he- 
roes. 

FIGHT  ABOUT  A  KIPSKIN. 

Here  follows  an  account  of  a  fight  farther 
illustrative  of  the  foregoing.  Josh  Jones, 
who  fought  Hash-head  Smith  at  the  old 
Quaker's,  in  Grayson  County,  Virginia,  was 
a  tanner  by  trade,  and  "tanned  on  shares," 
as  well  as  his  own  hides.  Davis  Holder, 
one  of  his  customers,  was  a  considerable  bul- 
ly, and  when  a  little  "tight"  boasted  not  a 
little  of  his  manhood.  Josh  tanned  a  "kip- 
skin"  for  Davis  "on  shares,"  and  there  was 
a  difficulty  in  their  settlement  some  way.  It 
became  a  serious  affair,  and  Shipp's  Muster- 
ground  was  the  place  of  settlement.  Davis 
brought  it  up,  the  ring  was  made,  and  the 
pugilistic  party  went  into  it.  I  will  let 
Josh,  in  his  graphic  style,  tell  the  rest  of  it. 

"I  felt  mighty  skittish  and  jubus  uv  Da- 
vis, fur  he  was  allers  a-swaggerin',  and  ca- 
vortin',  and  boastin'  about,  tellin"'  how  many 
men  he'd  licked,  and  so  on.  But  I  were 
mad  as  ilugence,  and  didn't  care  a  dried-ap- 
ple cuss  whether  I  lived  ur  died.     I  jumped 


FIGHTING.  205 

into  the  ring;    ^Verhum  sat,'  says   I,  and 
slapped  my  hands  aginst  my  hips,  and  crow- 
ed like  a  game-rooster.     In  jumped  Davis, 
and  come  full  drive  at  me,  like  a  fishin'  hawk 
dartin'  at  a  fish.     I  had  no  idee  uv  boxin' 
with  him,  fur  his  arms  was  long  as  May- 
poles.    So  I  jist  hipped  him,  and  throwed 
him  co-whollup — a  desput  fall  on  the  hard 
yeth — on  the  flat  uv  his  back,  soused  my  eye- 
string  feelers  sock  into  his  eyes,  and  he  blated 
like  a  calf.     Uncle  Billy  Norman  pulled  me 
off,  who  told  Davis,  who  was  talkin'  'bout 
tryin'  it  agin,  'I  could  lick  him  any  day.' 
So  that  ended  Davis's  bullyin',  puffin',  and 
blowin'  about  his  manhood." 


206  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 


Xm.— THE  CONVERT. 

At  Parson  Bellow's  night  meetings  it  was 
not  uncommon  for  persons  "under  convic- 
tion" to  fall,  and  lie  apparently  dead  for 
hours,  and  when  they  rose  it  was  with  a 
shout  of  triumph,  "a  clar  and  hopeful  con- 
varsion." 

Parson  Bellow  held  a  good  many  of  his 
night  meetings  in  the  "Hawks  Settlement," 
east  of  the  head  of  Stewart's  Creek,  not  far 
from  the  Sugar-loaf  Peak  of  the  Blue  Pidge. 
The  Hawks  generation  was  numerous,  and, 
being  much  attached  to  each  other  and  to 
their  romantic  section,  they  were  never 
known  to  live  far  apart.  The  parson  had 
held  several  meetings  successfully  for  them 
at  old  Timothy  Spencer's.  It  being  a  great 
country  for  apples,  every  man  had  a  large 
orchard,  and  in  the  fall  all  the  surplus  ap- 
ples were  distilled  into  brandy.  Every  man 
had  at  least  one  "bar'l"  a  year.     Timothy 


THE   CONVERT.  207 

Spencer  had  one  "barl,"  and  kept  it  in  his 
house  behind  the  door.  When  the  door 
opened  the  "barT'  was  concealed  behind  it. 

Sol  Hawks  had  seen  this  barrel  for  weeks 
at  the  various  night  meetings,  and  had  used 
it  for  a  seat  during  service.  Instead  of  list- 
ening attentively  to  the  parson's  sermons, 
he  was  all  the  time  thinking  of  the  "  innards 
uv  the  barl,"  the  temptation  was  so  great. 
His  mouth  watered  not  a  little  for  some  of 
the  "good  critter."  While  the  "sarvices" 
had  been  going  on,  the  crafty  Sol  had  ascer- 
tained that  the  "bung"  of  the  "barT'  could 
be  worked  out.  But  what  of  that  ?  He 
could  not  get  at  the  delicious  contents.  It 
was  vexatious  to  Sol.     He  couldn't  stand  it. 

Next  meeting  Sol  took  a  quill,  and  man- 
aged to  take  the  same  seat.  While  prayer 
and  other  services  were  going  on,  in  which 
.the  attention  of  the  audience  was  directed  in 
another  way,  Sol  got  the  "bung"  of  the  bar- 
rel out,  thrust  in  his  quill,  and  drank  it  down 
as  a  thirsty  man  does  water.  He  took  too 
much,  for,  just  as  the  benediction  was  pro- 
nounced, Sol,  attempting  to  rise,  fell  heavily 
on  the  floor. 


208  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

The  excitement  was  intense.  The  women 
shouted  aloud,  the  men  groaned  in  spirit,  all 
supposing  that  the  power  of  grace  had  done 
the  deed — had  felled  that  sturdy  oak  of  Ba- 
shan,  that  tall  cedar  of  Lebanon. 

"Bless  the  Lord  !"  exclaimed  Parson  Bel- 
low. "I  thort  I'd  done  no  good  here  to- 
night— hadn't  cast  the  net  on  the  right  side 
— ^that  the  wheels  uv  Zion  was  clogged ;  but 
hallaluyer !  the  Lord  allers  comes  at  a  time 
when  we  ain't  lookin'  fur  him.  Glory !  glo- 
ry ! !  Bruthering  and  sisters,  sing  a  mighty 
sperritul  hyme,  and  lift  up  yer  hearts  in 
prayer.  This  feller  has  bin  a-standin'  it  out 
fur  a  long  time,  but  the  power  what  fotched 
down  Saul  uv  Tarshish  has  flung  him  at 
last — glory ! " 

The  ' '  hyme"  was  sung,  fervent  prayer  of- 
fered, but  there  lay  Sol  speechless  and  seem- 
ingly lifeless. 

"  Bruthering,"  said  the  parson,  "yer  faith 
is  too  weak.  Ef  you'd  joray  in  airnest,  with 
a  strong  faith,  he'd  be  convarted  afore  you 
could  cry  '  'cavy. ' " 

Prayer  was  oifered  again  and  again,  but 
there  lay  Sol  helpless  as  ever.      Other  tac- 


THE    CONVERT.  209 

tics  must  be  used,  and  the  parson  was  rich 
in  expedients.  He  went  to  Sol,  and  told 
him  what  to  do,  "to  give  up,"  etc. 

"But,  Sol,"  continued  he,  "don't  shout 
too  quick.  Git  religion  good,  Sol.  I  know 
these  Hawks.  They  needs  a  heap  uv  relig- 
ion, and  you,  Sol,  have  bin  monstrous  bad. 
Religion  is  mighty  good  truck  to  have,  Sol. 
YouVe  sinned  enough  to  fill  Noah's  ark 
chug  to  the  brim.  I'm  afeered  you'll  fall 
from  grace  ef  you  shout  too  soon,  Sol." 

Thus  he  continued,  pounding  away  on 
Sol's  back  with  both  hands  every  now  and 
then,  as  though  he  would  maul  religion  into 
him  with  his  stentorian  voice  and  herculean 
fists.     At  last  he  interrogated  Sol  thus : 

"Sol,  how  do  you  feel,  old  feller?  Do 
you  feel  like  you  was  a  poor  lost  creetur  ?  a 
messuble  sinner,  lost  and  ondone  V 

"Ah  me!"  groaned  Sol,  "I  don't  know. 
I  feels  mighty  curious.  My  head  is  gwine 
round  and  round,  and  a  ringin'  in  my  ears 
sorter  like  tizzerrizzin !  tizzerrizzin ! " 

"Pray  harder,  Sol,"  replied  the  parson; 
"you  ain't  half  a-prayin'.  You'll  nuver  git 
religion    prayin'    that   snail  fashun.      But 


210  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

take  care,  Sol,  and  don't  shout  too  soon. 
Be  mighty  keerful  on  that  pint,  Sol.  Bruth- 
ering  and  sisters,  one  and  all,  sing  that  good 
old  sperritul  hyme, 

" '  Show  pity,  Lord  ;  O  Lord,  forgive  ; 
Let  a  repentin'  rebul  live  ;' 

and  pray  while  you  sing,  like  you'd  take 
heaven  by  storm.  Who  knows  but  what 
your  prayers  mout  be  hearn  V 

That  "hyme"  and  several  others  were 
sung,  and  several  prayers  offered,  but  there 
lay  the  stubborn  Sol,  the  tall  cedar  of  Leb- 
anon. The  parson  thought  it  was  time  to 
catechize  him  again,  to  see  their  success — to 
see  whether  "thar  prayers  was  hearn." 

"Sol,"  he  asked,  "how  do  you  feel  now, 
old  feller?  Do  you  feel  like  you  love  the 
Lord  and  his  people,  poor  soul  ?" 

"Ah!  Lord,  I  don't  adzackly  know.  I 
feels  almighty  curious.  I'm  almost  'swaded 
I  does." 

"  Bruthering  and  sisters,"  said  the  parson, 
"my  stars  and  lovely  garters,  ef  he  ain't 
convarted  now,  ef  he  jist  knowed  it.  He 
jist  needs  a  little  more  faith.  Rise  up,  Sol, 
and  shout,  and  youll  feel  happy.     Bruther- 


VHE    CONVERT.  211 

ing,  it  ain't  wuth  while  to  be  stayin'  here; 
it's  arter  midnight ;  let's  go  "home. " 

Sol  got  up,  rubbed  his  eyes  a  little,  step- 
ped out,  and  went  home,  but  he  never 
shouted. 


212  FISHER'S    RIVER   SKETCHES. 


XIV.— NOT  A  TRAVELER. 

John  Snow,  son  of  Hail  Snow,  I  believe, 
was  "not  a  traveler."  He  indignantly  re- 
pelled the  idea;  "he  paid  his  way  through 
thick  and  thin,  and  no  thanks  to  nobody." 

It  came  to  pass  that  John  Snow  and  oth- 
ers went  a  trip  some  distance  with  wagons. 
There  were  no  lucifer  matches  then,  and  at 
night,  when  they  "tuck  up,"  some  one  would 
have  to  go  for  fire  to  the  nearest  house. 

But  here  I  must  run  off  into  digression  to 
show  what  the  people  carried  to  market  in 
those  days.  It  was  not  whisky  and  brandy, 
for  they  hardly  made  enough  for  home  con- 
sumption. ' '  Things  got  nation  dry"  in  sum- 
mer before  apple  brandy  came  in  to  their  re- 
lief. It  was  not  "tar,  pitch,  and  tarpin- 
tine, "  for  there  was  but  little  pine  there,  and 
it  was  short-leafed  and  poor.  Nor  was  it 
corn,  wheat,  and  rye,  for  they  were  "allers 


NOT    A    TRAVELER.  213 

mighty  scace"  before  a  new  "crap"  came  in. 
What  then  ?  Why,  butter,  flaxseed,  chest- 
nuts, chinkapins,  Irish  potatoes,  and  tobac- 
co. These  Avere  the  main  staples.  Sam 
Lundy  always  added  a  few  items  of  his  own 
to  the  above  when  he  "sloped"  to  market; 
"wannit  goody,"  "hickVy-nut  goody,"  and 
"haze-nut  goody." 

As  stated,  with  such  a  load  as  the  forego- 
ing, except  Sam  Lundy's,  Avho  had  a  clear 
field  in  his  own  line,  John  Snow  and  com- 
pany camped  near  a  very  fine  house,  and 
John  was  sent  to  the  house  to  get  fire.  He 
went  to  the  door,  made  application  for  the 
fire,  and  the  lady — a  very  polite  one,  doubt- 
less— asked  him  to  come  in  and  be  seated. 

"I'm  too  dirty,"  replied  John,  "to  come 
inter  as  fine  a  room  as  yours  is ;  I'd  ruther 
stand. " 

"  Oh !  never  mind,  good  sir ;  travelers 
can  not  keep  their  clothing  clean  like  parlor 
folks." 

"I  ain't  no  traveler,  marm,"  said  John; 
"I  pays  my  own  way. "  (John  thought  she 
meant  traveling  beggars.) 

"Very  well,  sir,"  replied  the  lady,  "you 


214  FISHER'S    RIVER   SKETCHES. 

are  right.  Be  seated  till  the  servant  brings 
the  fire." 

John  was  pacified,  and  took  his  seat  in  a 
fine  parlor,  on  a  splendid  Windsor  chair,  till 
the  fire  came.  He  returned  and  reported 
the  whole  adventure  to  his  company. 

"I  tell  you,  boys,  with  my  dirty  britches 
I  sot  right  smack  in  one  o""  the  finest  Weas- 
ler  chairs  you  uver  seen  in  all  yer  borned 
days,  and  my  big,  mud-bustin,  pis-ant-killin' 
shoes  on  thar  fine  carpet  looked  like  two 
great  big  Injun  coonoes.  Ill  be  poxed  ef 
I  knowed  how  to  hold  my  hands  nur  feet." 


Mt''  ¥}h 


THE  WINDSOE   CHAIR. 


COOKING,    BIG    EATING,    ETC.  £17 


XV.— COOKING,  BIG   EATING,  ETC. 

You  may  expect,  in  a  healthy  country  like 
that,  there  would  be  big  eaters.  Stout, 
healthy  men  must  eat  accordingly.  Their 
food  was  plain  and  simple — no  highly  sea- 
soned viands  to  destroy  the  stomach  and  pro- 
duce dyspepsia.  Whether  a  French  cook 
was  better  than  a  Fisher's  Hiver  cook  they 
knew  not,  nor  did  they  care  a  chestnut.  So 
they  got  their  bacon  and  cabbage,  chicken 
soup  and  pot-pies,  Irish  potatoes  and  hom- 
iny, and  their  buckwheat  pancakes,  tarts, 
and  puddings,  by  way  of  dessert,  all  was  well. 
A  good  appetite  supj)lied  the  rest.  A  few 
families  (called  the  "quality")  could  afford 
coffee  once  a  week,  only  colored  at  that.  All 
their  "  sweetnin'  "  was  honey,  of  which  there 
was  great  abundance,  and  the  best  in  the 
world.  Sugar  and  molasses  were  never  used ; 
they  could  not  be  afforded.  Black  ' '  Gingy- 
cake  Josh  Easley"  was  the  only  man  that 
K 


218  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

used  molasses,^  and  where  he  procured  it  I 
can  not  tell.  I  never  saw  any  till  I  left  that 
country  in  my  nineteenth  year.  No  "change 
of  course"  at  their  tables  ;  substantials,  des- 
sert, pastry,  and  all  went  on  the  same  table, 
using  the  same  plates. 

Their  gatherings  were  frequent,  as  previ- 
ously intimated.  One  neighbor  would  help 
another  harvest  his  grain,  taking  it  in  turn 
till  they  were  all  through.  Corn-shuckings 
were  conducted  in  the  same  way ;  nor  could 
a  man  clear  a  piece  of  ground  without  invit- 
ing his  neighbors,  and  having  a  "clearin\" 
They  "swopped  work."  They  were  pre-em- 
inentlv  social.  At  such  gatherino-s  and 
workings,  all  hands  would  sit  down  to  a 
long  table,  and  the  first  dish  they  "moseyed 
into"  was  soup.  Large  pewter  basins  full 
of  soup  were  placed  along  the  table  at  a  con- 
venient distance,  and  several  pewter  spoons 
were  placed  in  each  basin.  They  "waded 
inter  it"— never  dipped  it  out — all  that  could 
reach  in  the  same  basin.  Shadrach  Frank- 
lin played  a  prank  on  ' '  Long  Jimmy  Thomj)- 
son"  over  a  basin  of  soup  once.  Shadrach 
was  the  first  man  who  dipped  his  spoon  into 


COOKING,   BIG    EATING,  ETC.  £19 

the  smoking  basin,  and  it  burned  his  mouth 
awfully;  but  he  resolved  to  have  his  fun, 
and  bore  it  without  a  frown.  "Long  Jim- 
my," a  big  eater,  asked  him,  "  Shadrach,  is 
the  soup  in  good  kelter?"  "Yes,"  was  the 
serious  reply.  Long  Jimmy  tried  it,  and 
unceremoniously  spirted  it  out  all  over  the 
table,  producing  a  soup  rainbow.  All  right ; 
a  hearty  laugh  was  full  compensation  for  the 
shower  of  saliva  and  soup. 

I  have  said  Long  Jimmy  Thompson  was 
a  big  eater.  He  was  the  Milo  of  Mitchell's 
River,  and  Mose  Cackerham  was  the  Max- 
imius  of  Fisher's  River.  Once,  at  a  gather- 
ing, Long  Jimmy  let  in  on  a  large  tray  of 
hog's  feet  that  was  set  on  a  table.  He  made 
such  havoc  of  them,  and  the  bones  fell  so 
fast  on  the  floor,  that  it  provoked  Lark  Can- 
nady  to  blurt  out, 

"  Hello w.  Uncle  Jimmy,  you  hull  out 
bones  faster  nur  a  cotting-gin  can  shell  out 
cotting-seed,  a  nation  sight.  You  kin  beat 
a  whole  cotting-pickin'  uv  huming  beings  all 
holler." 

But  Long  Jimmy  paid  no  more  attention 
to  this  witty  gibe  than  a  hungry  cur  would 


220  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

to  a  gnat.  At  a  reaping  at  Uncle  Billy 
Norman's,  Mose  Cackerham  ate  up  the  back- 
bones of  several  hogs,  and  their  joles.  The 
bones  kept  falling  on  the  floor  with  such 
force  and  noise  that  Dick  Snow  exclaimed, 

"Dang  it.  Uncle  Mose,  ef  your  bones 
don't  fall  as  hard  on  the  floor  as  ears  o'  corn 
on  the  floor  of  a  empty  corn-crib  at  a  corn- 
shuckin',  and  nearly  as  fast.  By  jingo !  I 
Avouldn't  feed  you  fur  all  yer  wuck.  You'd 
'duce  a  famine  in  a  man's  smoke-house  mighty 
quick. " 

A  tinker  was  about  the  first  man  I  re- 
member to  have  seen.  He  was  an  indispens- 
able in  that  section — as  much  so  as  Prince 
Knock-'em-stifl".  A  tinker,  in  that  honest  re- 
gion, needed  not  the  name  of  a  John  Bunyan 
to  make  his  fraternity  respectable ;  he  was  a 
man  of  distinction,  and  honorable.  Pewter 
cupboard  ware  was  all  the  go.  The  tinker 
made  it  his  business  once  a  year  to  visit  ev- 
ery family  to  remould  their  broken  pewter 
ware.  We  had  pewter  basins,  dishes,  plates, 
spoons,  etc.  Our  cups  were  tin  mostly; 
some  were  pewter ;  but  few  men  had  plain 
delft-ware;  china  was  unknown.     Of  "yeth- 


COOKING,   BIG    EATING,  ETC.  221 

en  ware"  there  were  crocks,  jugs,  and  jars, 
which  are  essential  every  where.  Major 
Oglesby,  a  man  of  some  wealth,  "one  of  the 
quality, "  had  the  finest  delft  known.  It  was 
a  great  curiosity  to  the  "natives,"  and  much 
talked  of  every  where.  When  his  plain 
neighbors  visited  him  they  were  much  em- 
barrassed to  know  how  to  use  it. 

Uncle  Frost  Snow,  William  Golding,  and 
others  went  to  the  "major's"  to  take  a  hunt. 
At  meal  milk  was  served  in  tea-cups — glass 
was  then  not  used,  not  even  by  the  major — 
and  Uncle  Frost,  not  knowing  how  to  han- 
dle a  tea-cup,  turned  it  over,  and  spilled  the 
milk  on  a  fine  table-cloth. 

"Dang  it,  major,"  said  Uncle  Frost,  "I 
wish  you'd  a  gi'n  me  a  tin  cup,  then  I'd  a 
knowed  how  to  a  used  him.  I  ain't  no 
quality  no  how.  You  can't  make  a  quality 
man  out'n  me.  I'm  nobody  but  Frost  Snow, 
from  old  Fudginny." 


222  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 


XVI.— A  DECLARATION  OF  LOVE. 

The  young  men  did  their  courting  almost 
entirely  by  word  of  mouth.  Their  "edica- 
tion"  was  very  poor,  and  they  did  not  like 
to  expose  their  "ignunce"  by  a  love-letter. 
Sometimes  a  very  bashful  fellow,  deeply 
smitten  with  love,  would  give  vent  to  his 
feelings  in  a  letter.  I  have  been  quite  for- 
tunate in  securing  one  of  these  letters.  I 
pledge  my  word,  and  can  prove  it,  that  the 
following  is  an  exact  copy  from  the  original, 
not  a  word  nor  a  letter  altered.  The  free 
use  of  capitals  is  to  be  ascribed  to  the 
writer's  deep  feeling.  But  I  will  not  com- 
ment. Here  is  the  letter,  leaving  names 
out : 


"Dear  Miss  I  seat  Myself  To  Let  you 
Know  My  Heart  Desire  This  Very  Day, 

God  Know  That  I  Dow  Love  you  P 

F And  I  Have  you  if  you  Will  Mee, 


A    DECLARATION    OF    LOVE.  223 

And- 1  want  you  To  write  To  Mee  as  soon 
as  This  come  to  Hand,  And  give  Me  satis- 
factions one  way  or  other,  God  Know  at 
This  Time  Which  way  you  will  give,  God 
sed  in  His  Word  First  Seak  The  Kingdom 
of  Hevin  and  all  His  Hiches  shall  Be  Added 
on,  And  I  Beliave  you  Love  Mee,  And  I 
Guv  you  the  First  Time  I  Ever  Thought! 

And  Whare  it  wase  at,  Mr  F s  at  Me- 

tin.  And  I  tell  Why  I  Thout  Sow,  For 
Actions  speaks  Louder  Than  Words  withe 
Mee,  And  I  Write  you  A  few  Loines  To 
Tell  you  The  Truth,  When  I  was  Layin  on 
my  Death  bed*  I  Thought  of  you  Moor  than 
Evry  Body  Else  Well  P F I  Nev- 
er Told  my  Bisness  in  any  Manner  But  I 
Hinted  To  you  one  Time  And  you  Nuver 
stutteredf  one  Bit  But  Turned  Very  Bed 
And  Sed  you  Was  Going  to  Uncles  And 
you  Hav  not  Gon  Before  you  MarriedJ 
And  I  Drop  The  Subjick  For  God  Sed  in 


*  He  had  just  recovered  from  a  severe  illness,  and  was  so 
carried  away  with  the  subject  he  writes  as  though  he  had 
died. 

f  The  young  lady  had  a  stoppage  in  her  speech. 

%  Here  I  am  at  a  loss  for  his  meaning ;  but  it  is  in  the  copy. 


224  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

His  Word  Forsak  Father  And  Mother  And 
Cleeve  Untoo  They  Own  Wife  And  if  All 
The  Twigs  was  Pens  And  the  Rivers  was 
ink  And  I  Had  the  Fingers  To  use  them  I 
Codent  Moore  Than  Describe  The  Love 
That  I  Have  for  You*  And  I  Come  A  pur- 
pass  To  Know  The  Other  Time  I  ware 
whether  My  Desires  could  Be  Accomplished 
ore  not  And  I  considered  I  Better  Wait 
Till  I  See  Whether  I  Got  Well  ore  not  I 
Am  not  The  Man  I  was  Before  But  I  am 
Soutf  as  Ever  and  Feels  as  well  But  it  is 
Gods  Blessin  that  I  am  Writin  this  Day. 

"I  Want  You  Read  This  With  A  feeling 
Hart  And  Tell  Mee  of  your  Situations  That 
Time  Ef  God  Had  call  When  You  in  Sick- 
nessj  And  whether  You  Had  That  Hope 
Of  Meetin  your  Sister  ore  Not  in  Etteer- 
nity  ore  Not  or  in  Heven.  I  Say  So  That 
I  have  a  Hope  of  Meetin  My  Three  Little 
Brothers  if  I  am  Faithful  For  They  Are 

*  She  was  a  hard-hearted  girl,  else  she  would  have  been 
won  by  this  eloquent  passage. 

f  Here  again  I  am  at  a  loss  for  his  meaning ;  but  I  am  bound 
to  follow  copy. 

X  The  young  lady  had  been  sick  ;  and  had  previously  lost  a 
sister. 


A    DECLARATION    OF    LOVE.  £26 

sure  And  They  are  All  That  are  sure  And 
I  waunt  you  To  consider  That  Satisfaction 
is  wuth  All  And  I  am  A  poore  Man  But 
That  Dont  Hender  Mee  from  Loving  you 
But  I  waunt  you  To  Consider  That  Beligion 
is  "Wuth  all  I  Say  Farewell  if  I  Never  See 
you  Know  Moor  I  Hope  To  Meete  You  in 
Heven  Whare  Evry  secret  of  Hart  shall  Bee 
judged  And  you  Know  Then  That  I  am 
Tellin  Thee  Truth  And  I  Say  To  You  That 
You  Are  older  A  nuff  To  Marry  Ef  you 
Ever  expect  To  For  I  Say  it  is  every  body  s 
Duty  To  Marry  if  They  can  Suit  Theirself 
And  I  Say  That  I  can  Sute  Myself  if  you 
Say  Sow  And  I  have  Hearn  Folks  Say  That 
Love  was  Stronger  Than  Deth  And  I  Say 
That  it  is  So  For  when  I  Thout  Cold 
Home*  I  Thout  of  you  And  I  Druther  See 
you  And  any  Body  else  And  I  Say  To  you 
if  you  Turn  your  Face  from  Mee  That  you 
Turn  yourself  from  the  Dearest  And  I  want 
you  To  write  To  Mee  And  Tell  if  What  I 
Have  Bit  Dont  Take  Why  is  The  Beason 

*  Here  again  I  am  in  the  dark ;  but  I  am  not  at  liberty  to 
alter.  Copy  must  be  followed  to  the  letter.  I  set  out  to  be  a 
faithful  copyist,  and  the  reader  has  the  result. 

K2 


226  FISHER'S    RIVER   SKETCHES. 

And  I  Say  To  You  if  "What  I  Have  Writ 
to  Dont  for  Godsake  write   To  Mee  And 
Keturn  This  May  God  Bless  you  Sow  Fare- 
well E.  H.  S. 
"ToP F 

"N.B.   You  Muss  souse  bad  Writin  and 
Spillin" 


GLASSEL    AND    THE    OWL.  £27 


XVn.— GLASSEL  AND  THE  OWL. 

V 
A  Scotchman,  named  Glassel,  came  on  a 

bee-line  from  the  "old  country,*"  and  halted 
not  till  he  arrived  at  the  foot  of  the  Blue 
Ridge  Mountains  in  Virginia.  He  rested  a 
few  days,  took  his  gun,  and  went  into  the 
deep  gorges  of  the  mountain  hunting.  While 
he  was  in  one  of  those  deep  gorges,  the  hab- 
itation of  owls,  the  old  king  owl  of  the  gorge 
"let  off"  in  trumpet  tones. 

Glassel  had  never  heard  the  like,  nor  had 
he  seen  the  like,  when  he  looked  up  into  a 
tree  and  saw  that  large  head,  those  big  bright 
eyes,  and  that  grave,  intelligent  countenance. 
His  excited  imagination  supplied  the  rest. 
"That,"  thought  he,  "is  some  enchanted  or 
metamorphosed  human  being — no  ordinary 
one  at  that — the  work  of  some  wicked  spirit." 
His  fruitful  imagination  gave  it  an  intelli- 
gent speech,  and  made  it  speak  to  him  in 
this  inquisitive  manner : 


228  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

Owl.   Hoo-hoo-hoo-who  are  you  ? 

Glassel.  My  name  is  Glassel,  sir,  at  your 
service. 

Owl.   Hoo-hoo-hoo-who  are  you  ? 

Glassel.  I  say,  sir,  my  name  is  Glassel ; 
and,  if  I  might  be  so  bold,  what  is  your 
name  ? 

Owl.  Hoo-hoo-hoo-who  are  you  ? 

Glassel.  I  say,  sir,  my  name  is  Glassel, 
and  if  you'll  let  me  alone  I  will  you. 

And  Glassel  left.    , 

A 


ONE   OF   THE    PEOPLE.  £29 


XVni.— ONE  OF  THE  PEOPLE. 

X 

I  ONCE  lived  near  a  town  where  a  friend  of 
mine  named  King  often  went,  and  he  would 
uniformly  stay  all  night  with  me.  He  lived 
in  St.  Clair  County,  Alabama,  and  by  staying 
with  me  he  accomplished  two  objects :  he 
<  saved  his  bill  (an  important  item  with  him) 
and  enjoyed  my  company,  of  which  he 
seemed  very  fond.  He  was  a  quiet,  harm- 
less creature,  and  the  only  injury  he  ever  did 
me  was  the  loss  of  my  time  in  keeping  him 
company.  The  only  pay  I  could  get  out  of 
him  was  to  tease  him  a  little. 

We  have  no  right  to  raise  the  question 
why  a  wise  and  sovereign  Being  has  made 
some  seemingly  bad  jobs,  physically  and  in- 
tellectually. They  belong  to  the  great  fam- 
ily of  man,  and  fill  some  important  sphere, 
if  we  could  see  it.  Though  you  may  regard 
them  as  nothing  more  than  hores^  not  so  with 
the  sovereign  Maker  and  Disposer.     Now 


230  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

my  friend  King  was  what  some  would  call, 
in  the  process  of  man-making,  an  intellectual 
failure.  Here,  reader,  is  the  proof.  In 
1848,  when  General  Taylor  was  nominated 
for  the  presidency,  Friend  King  called  on  me, 
and,  after  salutations,  inquiry  was  made  aft- 
er the  news  of  the  day. 

Author.  What  is  the  ncAvs  in  St.  Clair, 
Mr.  King? 

King.   Right  smart. 

Author.   Very  well,  what  is  it  ? 

King.  Well,  thar's  a  man  over  thar  run- 
nin'  fur  President. 

Author.  Who? 

King.  I  bleeve  they  call  him  Ginnerl 
Taylor. 

Author.   Where  did  you  say  he  lived  ? 

King.  Over  in  the  back  part  of  St.  Clair, 
ur  a  little  beyant. 

Author.   Is  he  running  pretty  Avell  ? 

King.  He  is  that.  I  bleeve  he's  a-gwine 
ter  be  elected.  Nairly  all  St.  Clair's  a-gwine 
fur  him. 

Author.  What!  old  Democratic  St. Clair 
going  for  General  Taylor  ?  But  who  is  this 
man  General  Taylor,  any  how? 


ONE    OF    THE    PEOPLE.  231 

King.  Why,  hain't  you  hearn  on  him? 
He's  a-bin  lickin'  out  the  Maxicans  fur  some 
time,  over  thar  a  leetle  beyant  St.  Clair. 

Author.  Are  you  for  Taylor — as  good  a 
Democrat  as  you  f 

King.  I  ain't  that !  not  becaze  I'm  a 
Dimmicrat,  but  on  anuther  account.  Sich 
a  man  can't  git  my  vote. 

Author.  Why  not  ? 

King.  Hain't  you  hearn  what  he  done  to 
the  Maxicans  over  thar  at  a  big  spring? 
Now  I  ain't  no  friend  to  the  Maxicans,  but 
they  ought  to  be  font  farly  and  be  licked  out 
farly,  and  not  treated  in  sich  a  onhuman 
way.  Now  ef  Ginnerl  Taylor  had  a  font 
'um  far,  and  had  a  licked  'um  up  like  a  cow 
a-lickin'  salt,  I  wouldn't  a  kearn ;  but  the 
way  he  done  it  he  can't  git  my  vote. 

Author.  How  did  he  do  it  ? 

King.  Thar  warn't  but  one  spring  o'  wa- 
ter in  all  the  country,  and  Ginnerl  Taylor 
got  possession  o'  that,  and  wouldn't  let  the 
Maxicans  have  one  drap  o'  water,  which  was 
onhuman.  Last  the  Maxicans  couldn't 
stand  it  no  longer,  and  come  runnin'  to  the 
spring,  like  thirsty  oxen  arter  water,   and 


232  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

Ginnerl  Taylor  shot  'um  down  like  he  would 
deer.  Sich  a  onhuman  man  can't  git  my 
vote  fur  dog-pelter. 

Author.  Any  more  news  ? 

King.  Nothin',  on'y  I'm  gwine  to  leave 
Alabama,  and  a-gwine  to  Georgy. 

Author.  Why  so  ? 

King.  Taxes  is  too  high ;  break  me  up ; 
can't  nur  won't  stand  it. 

Author.   What  is  your  annual  tax  ? 

King.  Seventy-five  cents.  Poll-tax  ain't 
but  fifty  cents  in  Georgy. 

Reader,  this  man  is  one  of  the  sovereigns 
of  the  country.  He  is  a  King  ;  the  only 
tyrant  that  ever  ruled  over  him  was  PoU- 
,;  tax.  He  got  rid  of  twenty-five  cents  of  the 
'i  tyranny  of  King  Poll-tax  by  moving  to 
<  "Georgy,"  where  he  is  doubtless  congratu- 
lating himself  on  the  economy  of  his  remov- 
al. Should  these  lines  ever  fall  under  his 
eye,  he  will  see  that  they  are  "according  to 
Gunter. " 


A    CALL    TO   THE    MINISTRY, 


XIX.— A  CALL  TO  THE  MINISTRY. 

I  HAVE  no  doubts  as  to  a  call  to  the  Chris- 
tian ministry.  I  concede  all  that  is  claimed 
for  it  by  intelligent  orthodox  Christians ; 
but  as  to  the  "call"  contained  in  the  story 
below  I  shall  not  decide.  My  business  is  to 
detail  facts. 

Somebody  is  always  telling  stories  about 
the  "Hard-shell  Baptists.""  Wags  have  the 
run  on  them,  and  they  may  as  well  be  con- 
tent and  bear  it.  Here  follows  a  tale  told 
of  them  not  long  since.  My  informant  lo- 
cates it  in  the  mountains  of  North  Carolina, 
where  the  Hard-shells  are  quite  numerous, 
and  where  they  believe  pretty  strongly  in 
dreams  and  voices.  In  the  important  mat- 
ter of  a  call  to  the  ministry,  a  dream  or  a 
voice  is  a  thing  almost  indispensable. 

Now  it  came  to  pass  that  a  man  by  the 
name  of  Walker  felt  himself  considerably 
moved  to  "hold  forth,''  and  kept  "spread- 


234  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

ing  the  fleece,"  Gideon-like,  to  ascertain  his 
duty  in  the  important  premises.     To  assist 
him  in  his  pious  investigations,  he  called  at 
a  still-house  one  evening  to  get  some  of  the 
"good  critter.""     After  refvesliment^  the  sto- 
ry runs,  he  left  for  home,  and  on  the  way  he 
felt  "moved"  to  go  into  a  thick  grove  a  few 
hundred  yards  from  the  road,  "  thar  to  wras- 
tle  on  the  subjeck."     While  he  was  "wras- 
tlin' "  most  earnestly,  scarcely  outdone  by 
the  patriarch,  some  one  passed  the  road  with 
a  long-eared  animal,  politely  called  a  John 
Donkey,  and  John  let  off,  as  his  race  is  wont 
to  do  sometimes,  in  a  most  moving  and  thrill- 
ing manner. 
/^     Walker's    imagination,    by    his     earnest 
"wrastlin',"  was  wrought   up   to  great  in- 
tensity, and  he  converted  Major  John's  dis- 
cordant music,  which  to  most  men  resembles 
the  filing  of  a  saw-mill  saw,  into  a  call  from 
heaven  urging  him  to  preach  the  Gospel. 
No  time  was  to  be  lost.     He  rose  from  his  • 
knees  duly  commissioned,  went  to  his  church, 
and  demanded  a  license,  when  the  pastor  in- 
terrogated him  thus : 

Pastor.   Do  you  believe,  Brother  Walker, 


A    CALL    TO    THE    MINISTRY.  235 

that  you  are  called  of  God  to  preach,  "as 
was  Aaron  V 

Walker.   Most  sartinly  I  does. 

Pastor.  Give  the  Church,  that  is,  the 
bruthering,  the  proof. 

Walker,  I  was  mightily  diffikilted  and 
troubled  on  the  subjeck,  and  I  was  detarm- 
ined  to  go  inter  the  woods  and  wrastle  it 
out. 

Pastor.   That's  it,  Brother  Walker, 

Walker.  And  while  there  wrastlin',  Ja- 
cob-like, I  hearn  one  ov  the  curiousest  voices 
I  uver  hearn  in  all  my  borned  days. 

Pastor.  You  are  on  the  right  track, 
Brother  Walker.  Go  on  with  your  nora- 
tion. 

Walker.  I  couldn't  tell  for  the  life  ov 
me  whether  the  voice  was  up  in  the  air  ur 
down  in  the  sky,  it  sounded  so  curious. 

Pastor.  Poor  creetur!  how  he  was  diffi- 
kilted. Go  on  to  norate.  Brother  Walker. 
How  did  it  appear  to  sound  unto  you  ? 

Walker.  Why,  this  a-way :  "Waw-waw- 
Jcer — waw-waw-^er  f  Go  preach,  go  preach, 
go  preach,  go  preach-ee,  go  preach-ah,  go 
preach-uh,  go  preach-ah-ee-uh-ah-ee.'''' 


236  FISHER'S   RIVER    SKETCHES. 

Pastor.  Brutliering  and  sisters,  that's  the 
right  sort  of  a  call.  Enough  said,  Brother 
Walker.  That's  none  ov  yer  college  calls, 
nor  money  calls.  No  doctor  ov  divinity  uver 
got  sich  a  call  as  that.  Brother  Walker  must 
have  license,  fur  sartin  and  fur  sure. 

The  license  was  granted,  the  story  goes, 
and  Walker  is  now,  doubtless,  making  the 
mountains  ring  with  his  stentorian  lungs. 


OUTDONE.  237 


XX.— OUTDONE. 

It  is  difficult  to  beat  an  experienced  man 
at  his  own  game ;  it  sometimes  happens, 
however.  Methodist  preachers  —  and  no 
harm  is  intended — have  ever  been  fond  of 
excitement  at  their  religious  meetings.  The 
extremes  at  such  meetings  are  allowed  for 
the  sake  of  the  overbalance  of  good  which 
is  accomplished.  It  will  not  do,  they  con- 
tend, to  check  extravagances  in  shouting  and 
crying,  for  fear  of  doing  harm  to  those  prop- 
erly exercised. 

An  "old  stager"  in  camp-meetings  once 
told  me  of  an  incident  which  clearly  outdid 
him.  He  had  encountered  many  camp-meet- 
ing scenes  which  were  "hard  pills,''  but  he 
stood  up  to  them  all  with  a  good  grace,  ex- 
cept this  one. 

He  and  an  old  yoke-fellow,  his  story  goes, 
held  a  camp-meeting  in  rather  a  rude  section, 
where  all  the  ideas  of  the  people  had  come 


238'  FISHER'S   RIVER   SKETCHES. 

to  them  in  a  ludicrous  and  crude  fonn. 
They  were  Nature's  children,  and  easily  ex- 
cited, and  they  had  quite  "a  stir."  In  their 
prayers  for  mercy,  prompted  by  their  con- 
victions of  sin,  they  used  the  common  lan- 
guage and  imagery  of  the  country,  and  they 
used  the  same  vernacular  and  imagery  in 
their  shouts  of  triumph. 

The  meeting  waxed  hotter  and  hotter  from 
the  beginning,  and  on  Sunday  night  it  "boil- 
ed clean  over."  My  friend,  the  narrator, 
stated  that  the  "altar"  was  full  of  "mourn- 
ers" and  "new  converts."  He  concluded  he 
would  go  into  the  "packed  crowd,"  and  see 
what  they  were  doing.  He  entered,  and 
found  one  man  sitting  flat  on  the  ground, 
in  great  distress,  swinging  his  head  back  and 
forward,  crying  for  mercy  in  the  following 
earnest  manner : 

"  Jeeminny!  O  Jeeminny!  what  shall  I 
dot"  Rising  from  his  seat,  and  going 
through  the  crowd  for  the  woods,  he  contin- 
ued: "Jeeminny  Crimony!  O  Jeeminny 
Crimony!  have  massy  on  me,  a  poor  mis- 
suble  cuss  of  a  sinner ! " 

My  friend  let  him    go    scooting  for  the 


OUTDONE.  239 

woods,  and  continued  his  travels  a  little  far- 
ther, and  found  a  distressed  woman  seated 
in  the  same  manner,  and  putting  up  her  pe- 
titions very  pathetically  thus : 

"0-yes  Moses!  0-yes  Moses,  Moses! 
what  shall  I  do?  0-yes  Moses,  Moses! 
have  massy  on  me,  a  poor  devil  ov  a  cree- 
tur!" 

"No  better  fast,"  thought  my  friend,  and 
he  passed  on  beyond  the  "mourners'"  to  see 
how  it  was  going  with  the  "young  con- 
verts." He  did  so,  and  heard  them  interro- 
gate each  other  as  to  their  hopes  and  pros- 
pects.     It  ran  as  below,; 

"How  do  you  feel,  Sister  A ?     Are 

you  traveling  purty  fast  to  Caanian  V 
■*>  "Five  hundred  miles  ahead  ov  any  thing 
on  this  grit !  Gloree !  gloree !  Thar  ain't 
nothin'  on  yeth  to  be  compared  unto  it — 
honey,  shugar,  sweetnin'  ov  ev'ry  kind,  ash- 
cakes,  cracklin'  bread,  corn  dumplin's,  bis- 
cuits, pot-pies,  poun'-cakes — pshaw !  I  won  t 
compare  any  thing  yethly  with  it." 

My  friend  by  this  time  was  fast  becoming 
nervous,  but  concluded  he  would  move  on- 
ward a  little  farther,  and  encountered  two 


240  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

other  happy  spirits,  and  heard  their  ques- 
tions and  answers,  which,  put  in  "prent," 
stand  thus : 

"How  do  you  feel,  Sister  B ?" 

"Happee!  happee!  Yes,  horse-fly,  I  m 
happy,  horse-fly,  certain — happy  as  a  'pos- 
sum up  a  'simmon-tree  ur  a  'coon  in  a  hol- 
ler.    Glory !   gloree ! " 

This  was  the  last  dose  my  friend  could 
bear.  He  went  to  his  brother  preacher,  who 
had  seen  similar  sights,  and  had  heard  the 
like  sounds,  and  proposed  to  dismiss  the 
meeting  for  the  night,  which  was  readily 
agreed  to,  and  both  gjcknowledged  themselves 
outdone  for  once. 


STRAW!  STRAW!  MORE  STRAW  HERE!   241 


XXI.— STRAW!  STRAW!  MORE  STflAW 
HERE ! 

A  DENOMINATION  of  Christians  is  not  to  be 
blamed  and  held  responsible  for  the  bad  con- 
duct, freaks,  and  eccentricities  of  a  few  of 
its  members.  They  all  have  their  "black 
sheep" — freakish  and  eccentric  members. 
The  Methodist  and  Baptist,  being  the  larg- 
est denominations,  and  having  more  to  do 
with  the  masses,  of  course  have  more  of  the 
above-named  material,  hence  some  rather  lu- 
dicrous and  amusing  scenes  sometimes  occur 
at  their  meetings.  It  is  but  charitable  and 
right  to  conclude  that  all  the  parties  are  in 
sober  earnest,  even  in  their  strangest  freaks. 
It  is  their  way  of  doing  things. 

These  things  being  premised,  I  proceed  to 
my  straw  story. 

Somewhere  in  Middle  Tennessee,  in  the 
past,  a  Methodist  camp-meeting  was  held, 
L 


242  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

and,  while  all  the  tents  were  good  and  well 
supplied  with  straw  (a  very  necessary  thing 
in  tents  and  arbors),  the  arbor,  and  particu- 
larly the  altar,  had  not  been  well  provided 
with  the  article.  Things  dragged  pretty 
heavily  till  Sunday  night.  There  had 
been  plenty  of  straw  for  Avhat  few  "seek- 
ers" had  come  into  the  altar  up  to  that 
time;  but  on  Sunday  night  the  preacher 
"cast  the  net  on  the  right  side,"  and  scores 
came  up,  the  altar  Avas  crowded,  and  what 
little  straw  was  in  the  altar  was  occupied, 
and  the  others  had  to  take  the  ground  or 
stand  up. 

There  was  an  old  "amen"  Methodist,  of 
the  old  "shad-belly  coat"  tribe  (now  ex- 
tinct). He  saw  the  sad  state  of  things,  be- 
came nervous,  and  roared  out  at  the  top  of 
his  cataract  voice,  drowning  the  singing,  ex- 
hortations, shoutings,  every  thing — 

"Straw!  straw!  straw  here!  Bruthren, 
more  straw  here!  A  hundred  souls  lost 
here  to-night  for  the  want  of  straw!  Run 
to  the  tents  and  fetch  straw,  else  the  blood 
of  souls  will  be  required  of  you !  Straw, 
you  careless  souls !  straw  here !     You  mout 


STRAW!     STRAW!     MORE    STRAW    HERE'       243 

a  had  straw  anough  at  fust,  O  ye  of  little 
faith!" 

He  gave  them  no  rest  till  the  straw  was 
brought ;  but  how  the  thing  went  the  depo- 
nent saith  not. 


244  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 


XXn.— TARE  AND  TRET:  AN  ALABAMA 
TALE. 

(  This  is  a  rule  in  all  our  arithmetics,  which 
originated  in  commerce,  and  for  the  benefit 
of  commercial  men.  Tare^  in  commerce, 
means  the  allowance  or  abatement  of  a  cer- 
tain weight  or  quantity  from  the  weiglit  or 
quantity  of  a  commodity  sold  in  a  cask, 
chest,  bag,  or  the  like,  which  the  seller  makes 
to  the  buyer  on  account  of  the  weight  of 
such  cask,  chest,  or  bag ;  or  the  abatement 
may  be  on  the  commodity  sold.  Ti^et^  in 
commerce,  means  an  allowance  to  purchas- 
ers, for  waste  or  refuse  matter,  of  four  per 
cent,  on  the  weight  of  commodities. 

Now  it  isn't  every  body  that  understands 
these  commercial  rules,  and  I  shall  not  stop 
to  discuss  the  justness  of  them.  I  vouch  for 
the  above  definitions,  for  they  are  taken  ver- 
hatiin  from  Webster.  But  all  men  do  not 
see  Webster  nor  our  arithmetics,  nor  do  they 


TARE    AND    TRET:     AN    ALABAMA    TALE,      245 

' '  cipher''  as  far  as  ' '  Tare  and  Tret. "  "  Thar 
ain't  no  use  in  cipherin'  as  fur  as  that, "  says 
the  uneducated  farmer. 

On  account  of  this  neglect,  a  one-cotton- 
bale  man,  of  Butler  County,  Alabama,  got 
"sloshin  mad"  in  Greenville,  the  capital  of 
said  county. 

About  the  time  the  Montgomery  and  Pen- 
sacola  Railroad  reached  Greenville,  a  cop- 
peras-breeches, piny-woods  man  "druv"  into 
town  with  his  bale  of  cotton,  well  packed 
and  "neat  as  a  pin,""  and  wished  to  make  it 
buy  a  great  variety  of  things — a  little  of  the 
"good  critter"'  among  the  rest.  He  soon 
found  a  purchaser,  for  cotton  was  bearing  a 
good  price.  The  cotton  was  weighed,  the 
money  was  "forked  over,"  and  a  small  de- 
duction made  for  the  "  tare. " 

One-bale.  Tar !  whar  the  devil  is  thar 
any  tar  on  it  ?  Thar  warn't  a  tar-bucket  in 
a  mile  of  the  gin-screw. 

Merchant.  Hold  still,  friend;  we  mer- 
chants always  deduct  a  certain  amount  for 
the  tare,  Avhich  is  to  indemnify  us  against 
loss  by  the  attachment  of  extraneous  matter 
to  the  bales. 


246  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

One-bale.  Bull  and  Injens !  The  devil 
you  do !  By  lioky !  thar  ain't  no  tar  nur 
any  o'  yer  extranus  matter  on  it.  It's  jist 
as  clean  as  tlie  old  'oman's  bed-quilt.  You 
can't  swindle  this  boy;  he's  walked  too 
many  chalk-lines  fur  that. 

Merchant.  I  tell  you,  friend,  the  tare 
must  be  deducted.  Every  thing  in  trade 
must  be  made  ivhole,  and  done  up  according 
to  rule. 

One-bale.  Jubiter  Ammon !  Mebbe  you 
mean  that  my  bale  is  tore,  by  you  sayin'  it 
must  be  made  ivhole.  Dem  it !  whar's  yer 
eyes,  man?  Thar  ain't  a  hole  in  it,  nur  a 
tored  place.  Now  what  you  got  to  say,  Mr. 
Tighty  ? 

Merchant.  This  much :  here's  your  mon- 
ey. You  are  the  tightest  customer  I've  run 
up  against  lately. 

One-bale.  You  mout  a  knowed  that  ef 
you'd  a  bin  smart,  and  jist  a  peeped  at  my 
physmahogany.     I've  gi'n  ye  one  more  kink. 


TARB   AN1>  TKET. 


HAM  RACHEL,  OF  ALABAMA,        249 


XXIII.— HAM  RACHEL,  OF  ALABAMA. 

EuFAULA,  Barbour  County,  Alabama,  is  a 
beautiful  city,  on  the  banks  of  the  deep-chan- 
neled and  rapid  Chattahoochee,  and  in  1845, 
the  time  of  the  incidents  of  my  story,  was 
the  mart  of  commerce  for  Barbour,  Pike, 
Coffee,  Dale,  and  Henry  counties  in  Alaba- 
ma, and  of  several  counties  contiguous  in 
Georgia. 

These  Alabama  counties  were  mostly  set- 
tled by  a  poor,  plain,  hardy,  robust,  and  hon- 
est people,  many  of  them  wholly  uneducated. 
All  they  cared  for  was  "to  make  buckle  and 
tongue  meet"  by  raising  stock,  a  few  bales  of 
cotton,  and  a  little  corn  for  bread.  Stock — 
cow  stock — being  the  chief  commodity,  they 
were  denominated  "cow  counties." 

Now,  mind,  these  were  the  first  settlers. 

Eufaula  was  a  great  city  with  them,  like 

Paris,  London,  and  New  York  to  most  folks. 

When  a  "squatter,"  as  some  naughtily  call- 

L  2 


250  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

ed  them,  carried  his  one,  two,  or  three  bales 
to  market  in  Eufaula,  the  "ole  'omun"  must 
needs  go,  and  maybe  one  or  two  of  the 
"  childering, "  to  see  the  "big  town. "  Hence 
you  could  see  the  ox-carts  coming  in,  the 
"ole  man"  driving,  and  the  "ole  'omun" 
sitting  on  the  top  of  the  one,  two,  or  three 
bales,  and  the  "childering"  walking.  The 
"ole  'omun"  has  brought  with  her  several 
extra  matters  for  sale :  butter,  eggs,  socks, 
etc.  Then  for  shopping  after  the  "cotting" 
was  sold.  Hundreds  of  little  notions  must 
be  bought,  not  forgetting  a  jug,  at  least,  of 
the  "good  critter,"  for  "ailments  and  sich 
things." 

Of  course  Eufaula  exerted  a  great  influ- 
ence over  these  counties  in  all  things,  par- 
ticularly in  politics.  As  the  town  went  in 
politics,  so  did  the  country.  Their  favorite 
merchants  were  their  oracles  in  these  mat- 
ters. 

To  illustrate: 

I  was  in  Eufaula  in  1848,  shortly  after 
the  candidates  for  the  presidency,  Cass  and 
Taylor,  were  nominated.  I  was  in  the  store- 
house   of  Mr.  G ,  a  Whig,  when  there 


HAM  RACHEL,  OF  ALABAMA.        251 

came  in  one  of  the  "sovereigns,"  a  Demo- 
crat, a  tall,  stoop-slioulclerecl,  sallow-faced, 
meek,  quiet,  teachable-looking  man,  with  cop- 
peras "britches'"  (no  mistake),  and  a  home- 
made cotton  shirt,  constituting  his  entire 
dress.  His  copperas  was  "gallused"  up  as 
high  as  his  fork  would  admit,  which  nearly 
lifted  him  off  the  ground.  His  rustic  looks 
and  movements  would  have  attracted  the  at- 
tention of  the  most  unobserving  man  on 
earth.  Mr.  G.  gave  him  a  seat,  Avhich  he 
accepted,  and  sat  down  characteristically. 
When  seated,  he  looked  to  Mr.  G.  with  looks 
indicating,  "Speak,  for  thy  servant  heareth. 
I  am  as  a  young  bird ;  cram  any  thing  down 
me  you  choose." 

After  drawing  a  long  breath  or  two  in  a 
peculiar  way,  he  said, 

"What  do  the  people  say  about  here  in 
regard  of  the  nomination  for  -pTesident,  Mr. 
G.?" 

Mr.  G.  We  are  all  for  Taylor ;  we  know 
him ;  he  has  fought  our  battles ;  he  is  one 
of  the  people ;  if  he  were  to  come  to  your 
cabin,  he  would  be  at  home,  drink  butter- 
milk, eat  bread  and  butter  and  yam  potatoes 


252  FISHER'S    RIVER   SKETCHES. 

with  you.  As  to  General  Cass,  he's  been 
doing  nothing  all  his  life  but  scooting  ca- 
noes up  and  down  the  Western  waters,  and 
knows  nothing  about  statesmanship.  Tay- 
lor is  the  man  for  the  people ;  hell  be  elect- 
ed sure. 

Copperas.  Yes,  IVe  hearn  ov  Ginral  Tay- 
lor; he  has  fout  the  Maxicans,  and  licked 
'um  all  up,  like  a  cow  licks  up  salt,  and  has 
kivered  the  nation  with  glory,  like  a  bed- 
quilt  kivers  a  bed ;  but  as  to  this  man,  Cass, 
I  nuver  hearn  ov  him  afore.  I  didn't  know 
thar  was  sich  a  man  treadin'  sole-leather. 

If  Mr.  Copperas  did  not  see  a  merchant 
who  was  a  Democrat  before  he  left,  he  cer- 
tainly voted  for  Taylor. 

These  things  premised,  it  was  my  "man- 
ifest destiny"  to  spend  a  night  in  Barbour 
County  in  1845, 1  believe — a  night  never  to 
to  be  forgotten.  It  was  on  the  main  road 
between  Clayton,  the  county  seat,  and  Eu- 
faula,  the  mart  of  commerce.  A  little  while 
before  sundown  I  called  at  a  very  good-look- 
ing house,  and  requested  to  stay  all  night  as 
a  traveler.  Permission  was  granted  by  the 
lady  of  the  house.     I  saw  no  man!     I  soon 


HAM  RACHEL,  OF  ALABAMA.        263 

learned  that  John  M'D resided  there, 

who  had  gone  that  day  to  Eufaula,  and 
would  soon  return.  I  congratulated  my- 
self on  my  good  fortune  in  getting  to  a  quiet, 
good  house,  where  I  could  take  a  refreshing 
night's  rest.  But  alas !  to  moralize  a  little, 
how  soon  are  our  best,  most  sanguine  hopes 
blasted !  A  man  knoweth  not  what  a  night 
may  bring  forth,  as  well  as  a  day. 

I  seated  myself  in  the  portico  facing  the 
public  road,  got  hold  of  an  old  newspaper, 
almanac,  or  something  of  the  kind,  with 
which  to  amuse  myself  a  little,  but  it  was 
not  long  before  I  saw  some  half  dozen  wag- 
ons coming  from  toward  Eufaula.  They 
halted  at  the  gate,  came  in  with  great  free- 
dom and  boldness,  drew  water  from  the  well, 
and  watered  their  teams,  as  though  it  be- 
longed to  them,  interspersing  their  labors 
with  waggish  remarks  and  blasphemy,  not 
even  respecting  the  presence  of  the  lady, 
Mrs.  M  'D .  They  then  commenced  pop- 
ping their  whips  about  in  the  yard  loud 
enough  to  shock  the  nerves  of  nervous  peo- 
ple, and  then  asked  the  lady  if  she  "mout 
have  some  chickens  fur  sale.     We  hain't  bin 


254  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

eatin'  nothin'  but  dried  beef  so  long  weVe 
wore  ur  corn-grinders  down  to  the  gums, 
and  we  want  suthin'  else  by  way  of  change. " 

"WeVe  none  for  sale,"  replied  Mrs. 
M'D . 

"No  chickens  !"  said  they.  "Thar  goes 
a  durned  old  rooster,  old  as  Mathuzlum,  yit 
well  buy  him  ruther  than  wear  out  ur  teeth 
on  dried  beef  Won't  you  sell  him  ?  YouVe 
sartinly  got  uther  roosters  to  sarve  and  take 
keer  ov  yer  hens,  hain't  you  V 

How  the  conference  ended  I  can  not  tell, 
for  I  left,  and  retreated  to  another  part  of 
the  house ;  but  one  thing  I  do  knoiv :  those 
wagoners  camped  in  the  lane  near  the  house. 

As  night  came  on  I  saw  that  the  uneasi- 
ness of  Mrs.  M  'D increased. '  She  would 

go  to  the  door  and  look  toward  Eufaula,  ut- 
tering many  nervous  sighs.  I  suspected  the 
cause,  though  I  did  not  know  that  her  hus- 
band loved  "sperrits."  Some  time  during 
the  night  I  heard  a  crowd  coming  in  at  the 
gate.  One  peculiar  voice,  in  short  sentences, 
kept  up  a  continual  din,  upbraiding  and 
cursing  "ole  John  fur  gittin  so  o^igentle- 
manly  dog  drunk. "     Soon  as  the  lady  heard 


HAM    RACHEL,   OF    ALABAMA.  255 

that^  she  understood  it,  and  covered  her  face 
in  her  hands  and  sighed  deeply.  Then  came 
the  clambering  of  five  or  six  men  in  at  the 
door,  no  one  speaking  but  that  reproachful 
sententious  voice. 

I  left  and  went  into  another  room.  Soon 
that  tormenting  voice,  which  I  soon  learned 
was  Ham  Rachel's,  sang  out, 

"Here,  boys,  put  the  ole  drunkard  fool  in 
the  bed.  Ef  Ham  Rachel  hadn't  a  brought 
him  home,  he'd  a  now  a  bin  a-lyin'  in  the 
streets  ov  Eufauly,  ur  lyin'  along  the  road, 
a-keepin'  company  with  hogs.  The  ole  cuss, 
he  nuver  can  go  to  Eufauly  'thout  gittin' 
full  as  a  bee  on  chamber-lye,  though  Ham 
Rachel  is  allers  'zortin'  him  like  a  preacher 
not  to  fill  his  cussed  guts  so  full.     Here, 

Mrs.  M'D ,"  addressing  himself  to  the 

lady,  "here  is  yer  old,  poor,  unfortinate  hus- 
band, which  Ham  Rachel  has  had  the  good- 
ness to  fetch  home  so  offen  agin  and  agin. 
The  Lord  on'y  knows  how  oifen  Ham  will 
have  ter  fetch  him  home  yit.  Some  ov 
these  times,  when  Ham  Rachel  ain't  about, 
ole  Nick  will  git  him,  and  Avill  pour  hot 
lead  down  his  cussed  throat  instid  o'  liquor. 


256  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

Ham  won't  go  down  to  ole  Nick's  deadnin 
to  see  ter  him,"  etc.,  etc. 

Thus  went  on  Ham  Rachel  ahnost  end- 
lessly. All  the  difference  I  could  see  was 
"ole  John"  was  "a  few"  the  drunkest  "In- 
jun" in  the  crowd  that  accompanied  him 
home. 

I  saw  I  was  caught  in  a  bad  box,  and  re- 
solved to  make  the  best  of  it.  My  course 
was  soon  determined  upon ;  I  Avould  have 
nothing  to  do  with  the  crowd,  and  would 
have  nothing  to  say  to  them ;  I  would  keep 
my  own  room.  With  this  resolution  I  went 
to  the  table.  "  Ole  John's"  attendants  must 
have  their  suppers ;  they  were  entitled  to  it, 
for  they  had  brought  the  old  man  home. 
Ham  E-achel,  being  "chief  cook  and  bottle- 
washer"  of  the  crowd,  must,  of  course,  have 
his  supper. 

After  grace  was  said,  "God  bless  us  and 
ur  vittuls,"  Ham  acting  parson,  being  all 
hungry,  we  attacked  the  table  with  great 
energy.  At  the  first  assault  there  was  no 
politeness  displayed  in  helping  each  other. 
Ham  generalized  thus : 

"Ev'ry  man  fur  hisself,  and  God  for  all. 


HAM  RACHEL,  OF  ALABAMA.        257 

Help  yerself,  stranger;  you  look  like  you 
mout  be  a  man  what  can  weed  yer  own  row, 
clean  at  that.  I  dun-no  whar  yer  live,  but 
doAvn  here  in  these  piny  woods  uvry  man 
waits  on  hisself." 

Nothing  more  was  said  till  the  edge  of  our 
appetites  was  blunted ;  but  Ham  all  the 
time  kept  casting  his  inquisitive,  restless 
eyes  upon  me,  trying  to  read  me  like  a  book. 
At  last  he  grew  a  little  polite,  and  handed 
me  a  plate  of  fried  yam  potatoes. 

"Take  some  'taters,  stranger;  mighty 
plenty  down  here  in  these  sand-hills.  The 
onY  adjections  Ham  Kachel  has  to  'um,  they 
make  him  a  little  too  cholicified ;  but  a  lit- 
tle number  six  will  bring  the  wind  from  you 
with  a  dreadful  racket.  My  old  'omun  al- 
lers  uses  yerbs,  but  yerbs  ain't  strong  enough 
fur  Ham  Rachel.*" 

On  we  went  with  our  heavy  assaults  upon 
the  table,  demolishing  whole  dishes,  "smit- 
in'  them  with  the  aige  ov  the  soord,"  as 
Ham  expressed  it. 

"Stranger,"  said  Ham,  "take  some  but- 
ter ;  that's  half  ur  livin'  in  this  cattle  coun- 
try.    It  would  be  mighty  tight  times  with 


258  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

US  here  ef  it  warn't  fur  milk  and  butter,  cow- 
peas  and  yam  'taters.  We'd  look  like  the 
peaked  eend  uv  nothin' ;  though  the  mur- 
rin's  bin  mighty  bad  among  cattle  lately; 
but  Ham  Rachel  has  great  reasons  to  be 
thankful,  fur  he  hain't  lost  more'n  twenty- 
five  ur  thirty  head,  big  and  little.  *" 

We  "swept  the  platter,"  and  supper  end- 
ed. I  went  to  my  room,  determined  to 
maintain  my  dignity  and  secrecy,  hard  as 
Ham  was  trying  to  read  me.  Ham  follow- 
ed, determined  to  take  me  prisoner,  read  my 
history,  and  get  my  whereabouts,  latitude 
and  longitude.  We  sat  down  ;  I  purposely 
looked  mum  and  dignified.  Ham's  curiosi- 
ty was  aroused  ;  he  could  bear  it  no  longer. 

"Stranger,"  said  he,  "you're  too  durned 
stiff  and  pertic'ler.  Ham  Hachel  loves  fur 
a  man  to  be  as  plain  as  an  old  shoe,  and  as 
thick  as  cow-peas  in  thar  liull.  I've  got  to 
know  suthin'  about  yer.  When  Ham  Ra- 
chel (I  wish  you  knowed  him)  begins  a  thing, 
he  carries  it  through,  ur  breaks  the  swingle- 
tree. 

This  was  j^refatory  ;  here  comes  the  main 
attack : 


HAM    RACHEL,    OF    ALABAMA.  £59 

Ham.  Ef  I  mout  be  so  bold,  whar  do  you 
live,  stranger? 

Stranger.  I  "mout"  live  in  New  York, 
New  Orleans,  Mobile,  or  Montgomery,  or 
any  where  else.      That's  'my  business. 

Ham.  By  golly !  that's  durned  smart. 
But,  stranger,  that  answer  don't  co-robber- 
rate  to  yer  looks.  That  ain't  you.  Ham 
Kachel  won''t  answer  a  stranger  that  a-way. 
But  111  try  yer  agin,  sence  ye'r  so  ding  snap- 
pish on  that  pint.  Ef  I  mout  be  so  bold, 
what  sort  o'  biz'ness  do  yer  foller,  stranger? 

Stranger.  That's  too  bold ;  but  since  you 
must  know,  it  is  my  "biz'ness"  to  follow 
my  nose — a  pretty  long  one  at  that,  you  see. 

Ham.  Wusser  and  wusser.  Durn  it,  I'll 
drap  you.  You're  as  snappish  as  a  par  o' 
sheep-shears. 

Ham  left,  and  went  to  the  camp  of  the  wag- 
oners, who  all  the  time  had  kept  up  every  va- 
riety of  noise,  laughter,  and  vulgar  witticisms. 
He  had  gone  but  a  few  minutes  when  ' '  ole 
John"  became  very  sick,  and  commenced 
throwing  up  his  "rot-gut  whisky."  The 
throes  were  terribly  painful ;  a  human  Ve- 
suvius was  in  dreadful  volcanic  action.     At 


260  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

every  throe  the  lava  would  fall  upon  the 
floor  like  a  dashing  cataract,  accompanied 
with  deep-toned  groans.  As  the  action  in 
the  crater  went  on  in  rajDid  succession,  it 
deepened  and  widened,  and  the  streams  of  lava 
became  more  overwhelming  and  noisy.  The 
bed  creaked  loudly,  and  every  eruption  look- 
ed as  if  it  would  throw  him  head  foremost 
out  of  his  resting-place. 

Ham  heard  the  noise  of  the  volcano, 
and  thought  he  would  now  lead  the  stranger 
out  in  conversation.  He  came  running  into 
my  room  with  gestures  the  most  wild  and 
frantic,  and  burst  forth : 

"Stranger!  stranger!  do  yer  hear  that 
ole  devil  pukin'  out  his  innards  ?  I  wouldn't 
keer  a  dried-apple  durn  ef  he  would  puke 
hisself  inside  outurds.  He  nuver  will  listen 
ter  Ham  Rachel,  which  nuver  was  cotch  in 
sich  a  fix.  Ham  drinks  his  drani  and  pays 
his  bob  in  all  licker  crowds,  but  he  allers 
travels  and  keeps  what  he  posits  in  his  in- 
nards. He  loves  licker  too  well  to  be  throw- 
in'  it  away  like  ole  John ;  besides,  he's  too 
savin'  a  man  ter  be  wastin'  his  vittuls  in 
that  a-Avay.      He  may  puke  up  his  stockin's 


HAM    RACHEL,   OF    ALABAMA.  261 

afore    111    go    a -near    him.       Poor    Miss 

M  'D !      She'd  no  biz'ness  a-marryin"' — 

a  'omun  ov  her  age — marryin'  sich  a  dried- 
up  ole  cracklin'." 

I  still  maintained  my  gravity,  and  Ham 
left  and  went  to  the  noisy  wagoners,  who 
kept  up  their  infernal  din.  The  rest  of  the 
company — four — who  came  home  with  "  ole 
John"  and  Ham,  had  lain  down  on  pallets, 
and  were  running  against  each  other  in  the 
snoring  line  as  if  some  great  prize  were 
staked.  No  renowned  artist,  graphic  pen, 
nor  gifted  music  composer  can  describe  the 
struggles  and  contests  of  these  four  rival 
snorers ;   of  course,  I  shall  not  attempt  it. 

Before  Ham  left  he  gave  them  a  blast 
thus : 

"What  the  devil  are  you  arter  here? 
a-sawin'  gourds,  grindin'  coffee,  filin'  saws, 
beatin'  tin  pans,  blowin"*  horns,  beatin'  drums, 
bloAvin'  fifes,  shootin'  pistols,  and  so  forth, 
and  so  forth,  breakin'  the  stranger  ov  his 
rest  ?     I'd  have  a  little  breedin', " 

I  lay  down  about  midnight,  exposed  to 
the  cross-fire  of  three  discordant  batteries — 
the  snorers,  the  wagoners,  and  the  groaning^; 


262  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

of  "ole  John*" — my  nerves  being  none  the 
better  for  the  contiguity.  I  dozed  a  little, 
but  was  soon  roused  by  a  new  sound.  It 
was  at  the  wagoners'  camp.  It  was  the 
voice,  tones,  and  intonations  of  a  Hard-shell 
Baptist  preacher.  The  old  "  heavenly  tone" 
rang  loudly  "in  the  stilly  night."  It  had 
the  suck-in  and  the  blow-out  of  the  breath, 
the  uli !  and  the  ah  ! 

What!  thought  I,  has  some  Greatheart 
of  a  preacher  found  those  scapegraces  and 
commenced  a  thundering  sermon  upon  them? 
"Give  it  to  them  thick  and  heavy,"  said  I 
to  myself. 

I  was  not  long  in  suspense,  for  here  came 
Ham  running  into  the  room  (a  dim  light 
was  burning),  puffing  and  blowing,  with  eyes 
and  hands  upturned  toward  heaven  with 
holy  horror  and  indignation. 

"Stranger!  stranger!  O  stranger!"  he 
shouted,  "do  you  hear  that?  That's  no 
preacher,  stranger ;  they're  on'y  a-mockin' 
preachin'.  They're  mockin'  old  Eldridge, 
who  used  ter  hold  forth  in  these  deadnins, 
but  run  away  and  went  to  Texas.  Afore 
he  run  away  he  baptized  these  very  rascals 


HAM    RACHEL,   OF    ALABAMA.  263 

who  is  a-mockin'  him.  Ham  Rachel  seen  it 
with  these  peepers  o'  his,  and  what  he  sees 
he  sees.  IVe  hearn  'um  shout,  sing  hymns 
and  sperritul  songs  with  ole  Eldridge.  Durn 
ole  Eldridge !  (Lord  forgive  Ham ! ),  he's  no 
better  nur  them,  but  that's  no  reason  fur 
them  to  make  fun  o'  religion.  Ham  Hachel 
(poor  devil ! )  is  no  better  nur  he  ought  to  be ; 
but,  thanks  ter  Jubiter,  he  nuver  made  fun 
o'  religion.  Lord  a  massy  on  us,  stranger ! 
do  yer  hear  'um  at  it  yit  ?  I'm  afeered  the 
yeth  will  open  her  howills  and  swaller  'um 
up,  like  it  done  Korum,  Datum,  and  Byhum 
in  the  willerness.  Ham  Rachers  not  a-gwine 
a-near  'um  agin  this  night.  Ham  don't  in- 
tend to  be  revolved  in  thar  drefful  catis- 
trough ;  he'll  fly  up  to  roost  right  here." 

Down  he  lay  on  one  of  the  pallets,  and 
was  soon  contending  for  the  prize  among  the 
snorers.  About  this  time  the  preacher  at 
the  camp  ended  his  services,  and  all  went  to 
sleep  and  to  snoring  except  "ole  John"  and 
myself.  "Ole  John"  kept  up  a  groaning 
all  night. 

In  the  morning  we  were  all  a  stupid  set — 
scarcely  had  energy  to  wash  dirty  hands  and 


264  FISHER'S    RIVER    SKETCHES. 

faces — until  the  jugs  were  resorted  to.  ' '  Ole 
John"  and  I  fared  the  worst :  he  was  too 
sick  to  drink,  and  I  was  a  rigid  teetotaller. 

Breakfast  came  on.  The  attack  on  the 
table  was  feeble  compared  with  the  assault 
the  evening  before.  On  leaving,  all  were 
"dead-heads"  except  myself.  The  rest  had 
paid  their  way  by  bringing  "ole  John" 
home.  I  paid  my  "fare"  and  left,  but  not 
alone.  Not  I.  It  has  ever  been  my  destiny, 
if  there  is  a  bore  in  reach,  he  will  find  me, 
and  cling  to  me  like  one's  shadow. 

While  paying  my  bill.  Ham  shouldered 
his  two  jugs  and  prepared  for  traveling. 

"  Stranger,"  he  said,  "the  roads  forks  jist 
down  yender ;  one  goes  to  Eufauly,  and 
t'other  by  Ham  Kachel's.  As  Ham's  a-gwine 
home,  he'll  go  that  fur  with  yer,  and  show 
yer  the  right  road." 

Suiting  action  to  words,  oif  he  "piked" 
for  the  gate.  I  mounted  my  horse,  which 
had  fared  better  than  his  master,  and  on  we 
went.  Ham  all  the  way  letting  fly  a  diarrhcea 
of  words  and  sentences,  till  we  arrived  at 
the  "fork"  of  Ham's  road.  Ham  halted. 
I  then  took  a  good  parting  look  at  him. 


HAM    RACHEL,    OP   ALABAMA. 


HAM  RACHEL,  OF  ALABAMA.        267 

There  he  stood,  a  lean,  gaunt-looking  speci- 
men of  freakish  humanity,  about  five  feet 
eight  inches  high,  stoop-shouldered,  long- 
armed,  and  knock-kneed,  with  a  peaked  dish 
face,  little  black  restless  eyes,  long  keen  nose, 
and  big  ears.  His  dress  was  cotton  pants, 
dyed  black  with  copperas  and  maple  bark, 
a  coarse  cotton  shirt,  collar  large  and  open, 
no  vest,  coat,  nor  socks.  His  hat  was  old, 
broad-brimmed,  and  slouched  down  over  his 
shoulders  behind,  and  turned  up  before. 
His  pants  were  "gallused"  to  their  utmost 
capacity,  leaving  considerable  space  between 
his  knees  and  the  tops  of  his  old  brogan 
shoes;  not  having  on  "drawers,"  of  course 
the  skin  was  exposed.  His  two  jugs  were 
part  of  his  dress.  They  hung  across  his 
shoulders,  before  and  behind,  suspended  to 
a  wide  black  greasy  leather  strap,  nearly 
down  to  his  knees  before  and  his  calves  be- 
hind. Thus  this  stransre  fio-ure  stood  before 
me,  independent  as  a  wood-sawyer,  and  made 
his  parting  speech : 

"Stranger,"  said  Ham,  "that's  the  Eu- 
fauly  road.  But  listen"  (pointing  down  the 
road).      "  Do  yer  hear  that  cow-bell  ?     Thar 


268  FISHER'S    RLVER    SKETCHES. 

ain't  less  nur  two  hundred  cattle  arter  that 
bell.  That's  Ham  Rachers  cow-bell,  and 
them's  his  cattle"  (giving  me  a  significant 
look  and  Avink).  "Stranger,  give  out  yer 
Eufauly  trip  to-day,  and  go  home  with  Ham 
Kachel,  and  stay  a  long  week.  He  can  treat 
yer  like  a  king  on  the  best  these  deadnins  af- 
fords. Do  yer  see  these  jugs?  then  thar's 
more  in  Eufauly.  Thar's  plenty  ov  fiddles, 
gals,  and  boys  'bout  here.  I  don't  know 
whether  ye'r  married  ur  not :  no  odds  ;  yer 
wife  Avon't  know  it,  and  the  gals  won't  keer  a 
durn.  You  may  sing,  pray,  dance,  drink,  ur 
do  any  thing  else  at  Ham  Hachel's.  He's 
none  ov  yer  hide-bound,  long-faced  cattle, 
which  strains  at  gnats  and  swallers  camels,  as 
ole  Eldridge — durn  him! — allers  said  in  his 
preachin'.  Come,  stranger,  the  world  Avasn't 
made  in  a  day — took  six,  I  think — come  go 
wi'  me." 

"I  thank  you  kindly,  sir,"  I  replied. 
"Your  generosity  is  great;  but  my  busi- 
ness is  quite  pressing,  and  I  must  be  going. 
Good-morning  to  you,  sir;  I  am  much 
obliged." 

' '  Good-by,  stranger, "  replied  Ham.    ' '  The 


HAM  RACHEL,  OF  ALABAMA.        269 

Lord  be  wf  you.     You'll  find  but  few  sich 
men  in  yer  travils  as  Ham  Rachel." 

Ham  took  his  road  and  I  took  mine,  and 
that  is  the  last  I  have  seen  or  heard  of  him. 


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ADAM  REDE. 

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EPISODES  OF  FRENCH  HISTORY 

During  the  Consulate  and  the  First  Empire.     By  Miss  Pardoe. 
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Complete.  Lives  of  the  Queens  of  Scotland,  and  English 
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ABBOTT'S  FRENCH  REVOLUTION. 

The  French  Revolution  of  1789,  as  vicAved  in  the  light  of  Re- 
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LOVE  ME  LITTLE,  LOVE  ME  LONG. 

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